UnSeen
by muchmadness
Summary: Continuation of my previous story, Seen. Not necessary to read that one, though, it'll make sense on its own. Family DL stuff, kind of AU or in the future, either way.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a Seen sequel. It takes place about two years after the last chapter in Seen. Hope you like it! Thanks to webdlfan for the title._

_This first chapter is rated a very strong T for some adult matter. It's not too explicit, but if you're under thirteen, maybe not a good idea._

* * *

Danny rubbed his gloved hands together quickly, trying to force heat back into them. He stomped his feet. _Why can't Linds do this? _He thought bitterly, leaning against the cold metal of the car. He wasn't even entirely sure of his wife's whereabouts at that point, which was what bothered him the most. If he wanted, he could call up Mac and ask where she'd been sent out to, but he seemed to have used that privilege up in the past few weeks. He'd called nearly four times, voice edged with nerves and hidden fear, asking where she'd been called out to.

It wasn't that he could glean much from the information, anyways. It was just a location, no indication of the gristliness of the crime, the danger lying in wait in the corners of the room she was processing. He had no objection to women with dangerous jobs. What he objected to was one particular woman being in danger. He wasn't too sure if he could manage living without her. Or the two month old baby inside her that she was waiting to tell Mac about.

The door to the school in front of him slammed open, and a mass of children spewed out, heading to the playground at the side of the school. Danny straightened up from the back of the car and searched the crowd for one kid in particular.

Finally, he found her, standing calmly by the jungle gym, her hands clasped behind her back as she looked shyly down at the ground. Her soft honey curls were hidden in the two braids Lindsay had fashioned that morning. She'd forgotten her hat somewhere, and Danny mentally ran through the contents of the car to see if she'd left one in there earlier. Since November had begun three weeks earlier, she'd gotten two and a half nasty colds. Her bright green tights barely looked warm enough from the frigid air, and her skirt overalls didn't seem to do much either. Her jacket was warm, though, a present from Danny's mother the year before. It was thick, heavy, and a dark blue that brought out her eyes.

Danny grinned at her; he couldn't help himself. She was tracing something in the snow with her boot as she talked to another kid. Her little red lips were pressed into a smile, her dark blue eyes fixed on the snow at her feet.

Abruptly, she looked up, and smiled as the other kid leaned in and pecked her firmly on the lips. Danny's vision turned to white-hot fire. At five, he considered his daughter just a tad bit too young for a first kiss.

He settled his burning gaze on the boy facing her. He was nearly a foot taller than her. There was no way he could be in her grade, unless he'd been held back for a couple of years. The boy reached out and grabbed his daughter's hand and squeezed it, pushing him even further up on Danny's hate list.

"Jilly, get over here!" Danny called out. The little girl looked up, found Danny, and her face split into a wide smile. She broke the boy's grasp on her hand and raced over to the door to the gate.

Danny signed her out with the teacher standing at the entrance to the playground and knelt, his arms wide. Jilly made it just in time, crashing into his hug and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Hi, Daddy," she said in her low, bubbly voice.

"Hey, baby," Danny said, his anger gone. He pulled her up and walked her to the car. He pulled open the door and settled her into the booster seat. She wiggled to allow him to buckle the seatbelt.

"Can I sit up front with you this time?" she asked hopefully.

"You know the rules. Not yet," Danny said, tickling the side of her neck.

She giggled at his distraction, the request forgotten. "Is mommy at home?"

Danny shook his head. "She's working," he said. He frowned at the revival of his previous worries, and shut the door, heading over to the driver's side.

* * *

"Can we get hot chocolate? I'm cold," Jilly said, swinging her feet over the edge of the seat.

Danny glanced at the time. "Yeah, we could do that." He pulled up alongside a coffee shop and put the car in park. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to reach into the middle compartment to get some change for the parking meter.

"By the way, whad'ja do with your hat? It's freezin' out there. You wanna get sick again?"

Jilly's lower lip pouted, and she looked down at her hands. "I don't kno-ow," she lied.

Danny paused and back at her. He reached back and tugged on her snowboot playfully. "C'mon, kiddo, where's the hat? I'm not gonna be mad if you lost it."

"I didn't lose it," she said adamantly, matching his gaze.

"Yeah? Where is it?" Danny asked.

"I don't kno-ow," Jilly said again, glancing back down at her hands.

Danny sighed, made a note to pursue the question further later, and got out of the car. He walked over to the other side of the car and opened the door.

"I can get out on this side," Jilly said, "It's easier."

"Street's on that side. Unbuckle your seatbelt and crawl on over here."

"But it's easier," Jilly argued, "_You_ got out on this side."

"Cars can see me. It's not safe for you. Now c'mon, JJ, you want hot chocolate, or what?"

Jilly pouted but did as her father asked. She clambered over the seats and crawled into Danny's arms. He noted that she wasn't that mad at him, else she wouldn't wriggle her nose into his neck and let him wrap his arms around her tightly.

* * *

"So, how was your day?" Danny asked, sipping his coffee and glancing across the wooden table at Jilly. He'd borrowed a booster seat from the register so she could see over the table. She had her chin resting on her arms as she stared at the cup in front of her.

"Fine," she said dully.

"Just fine?" Danny asked, "C'mon, gimme more than that."

Jilly grinned and sat up. She took a sip of her drink.

"Was that … uh …" Danny cleared his throat, "Was that kid I saw you with at the playground … was he buggin' you?"

Jilly's face scrunched up in confusion. "What kid?"

"The boy. The one that kissed you."

"Oh, Warren? He's my husband," she said calmly, taking another sip of her hot chocolate.

Danny coughed around his coffee, nearly spraying it over everyone with in a twelve foot radius. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth. He swallowed loudly, staring at his nonchalant daughter. "Your _what_?" he spat.

Jilly looked up in surprise, as though her previous claim had been the simplest thing in the world. "He's my husband."

"And … and how long have you been married?" Danny asked, his voice raising. He felt ridiculous for getting angry over his five-year-old daughter's love life.

"Are you mad at me?" Jilly squeaked, biting her lip.

"No, I – yeah, I am! What's the rule about boys, Jilly?"

"Don't kick them between the legs?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"The other one, Jillian," Danny growled.

She mumbled something to the floor.

"What was that?" Danny asked angrily.

"No kissing them until I'm forty-seven," Jilly sighed, the rule firmly engrained in her mind. Danny had made her repeat it over and over from the time she had started to talk.

"And what was it I saw you doing with that boy?" Danny asked.

Jilly's lower lip trembled. Her eyes began to water, "Sorry, Daddy," she whispered lowly.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," Danny said, his heart breaking. He reached across the table and smoothed down her hair. "Look, JJ, I'm just worried, OK? I'm not mad at you." _As for the jerk who kissed her, though, he's in for it, _Danny thought angrily.

Jilly slipped out of her seat and walked to Danny. Danny lifted her up into his lap and kissed her forehead.

"How old is this … uh … your husband?" Danny asked.

"He's in second grade," Jilly sniffed.

"Second grade!" Danny practically roared. He lowered his voice slightly. "That's two grades ahead of you, Jilly!"

"But he's really nice to me!" Jilly said, "The boys in kindergarten are mean," she wailed, burying her head in Danny's jacket.

"Why? What do they do?" Danny asked.

"Nothing," Jilly said quickly, her voice muffled with Danny's jacket.

"JJ, sweetie, you can tell me –"

"I wanna go home," Jilly said, sobbing into his jacket. "Can we go home, please? I'm tired."

Danny sighed and left some money on the table for a tip, then hoisted Jilly up and carried her out to the car. By the time he put her in her carseat, he noticed she'd fallen asleep.

* * *

"Hey," Lindsay grinned, chucking her keys onto the countertop and heading for the fridge. She reached up to the highest level, stretching up on her tip toes to reach into the back of the fridge for the orange juice.

Danny walked behind her, pressing one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip.

She took in a breath and leaned her head back, thirst forgotten.

Danny kissed her neck softly, tickling his lips along the curve, tracing patterns on her hip with the tops of his fingers. "Hey," he said, his voice low.

"This is new," Lindsay remarked breathlessly, "You haven't given me a greeting like this since I was pregnant with Jilly."

"It's not new," he countered, slipping the hand on her stomach down and under her shirt, pulling it up to just under her breasts. The cool air from the fridge and Danny's warm hands caused her to shiver at the contrast in temperatures. "I had a weird day, you look nice, I missed you, I love you – none of that's new."

"Oh," Lindsay could barely manage as Danny's other hand slipped down into her pants.

"How was work?" Danny asked, his voice betraying nothing of what his hand was doing to the lacy waist of Lindsay's underwear.

"Fine," she murmured, leaning back further against him, pressing herself to him, as she shut the door to the fridge with her foot.

Danny's right hand continued to slip lower as his left came higher and higher, slipping up her bra.

"Just fine?" he asked. He slid his hand under the waistband of her panties and grinned when she writhed and gasped as his right hand reached the place she needed it to.

"Mmph," she said eloquently, before burying her scream in his mouth in a searing kiss.

Danny slipped his hand out of her pants, buttoning her up. He grinned as she turned around to face him. "That was quick," he smiled, kissing her again.

"I had a hard day," she gasped, gulping for air. Danny loosened his grip on her, underestimating her weakened state. She slid down the fridge. Danny quickly caught her around the waist and pulled her back up.

"Woah," he cautioned, "You good?" he asked.

"It's the baby," she explained breathlessly, "makes me dizzy. And horny. Really horny."

"Glad to help," Danny grinned, and kissed her again. He licked his fingers clean, then pressed another kiss to her lips. He lifted the still-unsteady Lindsay up, newlywed style, and carried her over to the couch, settling her on his lap.

"Do you want …" she asked hesitantly, gesturing towards his jeans.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head, "Just you tonight." He kissed her cheek devilishly.

"Why do you do stuff like that," Lindsay groaned.

"It's fun," Danny chuckled, "Why, you complaining?"

"No. I could get used to it, though," she said sleepily, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

"So, we got a problem," Danny said, rubbing her arm with his thumb.

"I beg to differ," Lindsay giggled tiredly.

"Not with that, wiseass," Danny chuckled, kissing her head.

"With what, then?"

"We seem to have acquired a son-in-law."

Lindsay looked up at him, confused. "What?"

Danny sighed and shifted on the couch, easing himself further into the cushions. He leaned his head back. "Jilly has a husband."

"Who, Warren?" Lindsay asked sleepily, closing her eyes.

Danny looked down at her accusingly. "You knew about this?"

Lindsay lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "Uh huh." She yawned. "He's nice."

"He's at least two years older than her," Danny said incredulously, "and a foot taller. And he kissed her – he _kissed _my _daughter._"

"They're little kids. They're just playing house."

"Well they'd damn well better stop. He ain't getting anywhere close to her."

"Come on, Danny," Lindsay said, raising her head to look at him, "He's pretty much her only friend at school right now."

"What are you talking about? She's got plenty of friends," Danny scoffed.

Lindsay shook her head. "She got placed into the highest reading group a few weeks ago, then placed out of that."

"I know, I remember," Danny said proudly. The school had been forced to place Jilly in a first-grade level reading course.

"Well, since then, she's been a little bit … well, you know how kids can be."

"No," Danny said honestly.

"They tease her for it, I think. And she's not exactly the most normal girl. Remember when she went to school dressed like a bumblebee? With the sparkly gold wings?"

"Yeah, so?"

"She gets picked on."

"Who's picking on her?" Danny asked angrily.

"I don't know."

"How come she tells you all of this?"

"I'm her mother."

"So? I'm her father."

"It's a girl thing," Lindsay sighed, squirming to her feet. She took a few steps, albeit unsteadily, towards Jilly's bedroom. Danny got to his feet and helped her into the room. Lindsay kissed her daughter goodnight and walked into her own bedroom.

"She was crying today," Danny said gravely, "And she wouldn't tell me why."

Lindsay got herself into an old t-shirt of Danny's and lay down on the bed. "If she needs your help, she'll ask for it. This is something every kid goes through, Danny; everyone gets teased."

"I never cried about it – it was never that bad. Plus, you get some, you dish some out. Jilly ain't dishin' any out. You know her; she'd never do that."

"It's different for girls, Danny. The other girls can be downright nasty."

"Jilly isn't."

Lindsay sighed and got under the covers. "You wouldn't understand. Other girls can be mean, and boys do these ... _things_ and they don't see that it affects girls so much –"

"You sleeping in that? You're just like Jilly. You need something warmer."

"Danny, I'm –" she was cut off by the pair of pajama pants that smacked against the bed, near her waist.

"Put 'em on."

"Did you just throw pants at me? A little violent, aren't we?" Lindsay smirked.

"I threw them _next _to you," Danny corrected, "If I'da wanted to hit you with 'em, I would'a."

"Hit me, huh?" Lindsay teased his choice of words.

"I wasn't trying to hit you," Danny corrected, "And I wouldn't." He crawled into bed next to her, wearing his wife beater and sweats. He gave a sigh of relief as his head hit the pillow.

"I know," Lindsay said softly, snuggling up against him.

They were quiet for a beat. "So you really think she's gettin' teased?" Danny asked.

"I know she is. She's strong, she'll get through it," Lindsay said quietly.

"Huh," Danny responded, remembering how tiny she always felt in his arms, how she still used her baby pacifier or sucked her thumb when she was sad, how her whole hand could fit in his palm easily. _Nobody picks on my baby, _he thought fiercely, before slipping into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Going back to the usual schedule, Danny took Jilly to school in the morning. He and Lindsay had agreed early on that they'd be consistent about taking her to school – one parent in the morning, the next at night. Danny picked mornings, taking earlier shifts and allowing Lindsay to sleep in. The day before, Lindsay had been forced to stay later than usual, leaving Danny to pick up Jilly. Thankfully, he'd given Lindsay an extra day off that week in return.

With the pregnancy, he was especially worried about her health. Since the miscarriage she'd suffered nearly a year and a half ago, he worried constantly that something would go wrong.

He held Jilly's hand tightly as they crossed the street to her school. Danny had left Lindsay the car that morning, choosing instead to take the subways.

"Jilly you got your new hat on?" Danny asked, glancing down at his daughter.

She frowned at the ground, her honey curls tied at her neck in a loose ponytail. Danny placed his hand on her head. "JJ, you gotta wear the hat. You'll get sick."

Jilly sighed and pulled the brown knit cap from her pocket. She jammed it on her head angrily.

"You want mommy to put some sparkles on it later? That make you feel better?"

Jilly looked up hopefully and nodded. "I like the old one better," she admitted glumly, thinking back to her vibrant neon green hat with a fluffy, glittery puff ball on top of it.

"I know you do, baby. If you'd tell me what happened to it, maybe I could get it back for you," Danny offered.

Jilly said nothing, merely pressed herself closer to her father's leg and hung onto his hand.

"Fine," Danny sighed. They arrived at the metal gate to the school, and Danny looked down at her. "Go on," he said, nudging her towards the door.

"No," she said, and for the first time Danny realized that she was crying.

"Jilly?" he asked, bending down to her level, "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He reached to her face and wiped her tears away.

"I don't wanna go," she blubbered, "I wanna go home."

Danny hugged her tightly, holding her head to his neck. He kissed her ear, giving the loud smacking sound of a kiss that always made her giggle. "You have to stay here, JJ. It's only 'til three."

"No," she sobbed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Danny could feel the cold air cooling her wet tears on his shirt.

"Tell me why, then. Why don't you wanna go?" he asked.

"They're mean," she sobbed, "They make fun of me and take my things."

"Jilly," Danny calmed her, trying to get her to look at him. He pulled away from her and held her head in his hands. "Jilly, honey, listen to me, OK?" She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, her tearful gaze fixed on his eyes. "Screw them," Danny said.

Jilly gave a watery giggle at his language. If her mother were there, she'd have smacked the back of his head by now.

"Don't pay attention to what they say, and if they try to hurt you, you have my full permission to kick them as hard as you can. Got it?"

Jilly sniffed, brushing away a tear that escaped from her eye. "Even the boys?"

"Yeah. If the boys try to hurt you, then by all means, kick 'em anywhere you can. Just don't be the first one to hit. Don't hit anyone unless they try to hurt you first." Danny thought back to the very contrary advice his brother had given him decades earlier – if you're the first one to hit, it won't happen again. But, then again, this was his daughter, and this school was pretty strict about their fighting policy.

"They don't hit," Jilly said, "They take my stuff," her voice broke again, and tears fell from her dark blue eyes, "They threw my hat in the boy's bathroom and I couldn't get it," she sobbed.

"You want me to go get it?" Danny asked, smoothing her hair again.

Jilly sniffled and nodded. "Yes, please," she said in a quiet little voice.

"OK," Danny said, reaching down for her hand and walking into the school with her. She led him down the hallway to the boy's bathroom and pointed inside.

Danny jogged in and retrieved it. The hat was sitting on one of the sinks, along with one of Jilly's shiny pencils, a present from Flack the previous year. He snatched them up and brought them back out to her.

"I'm gonna take the hat home so we can wash it, and then you can wear it again, OK, JJ?" Danny asked.

Jilly nodded and gave him a hug, kissing his cheek fiercely.

"All right, all right, you're welcome," Danny said, grinning. He led her down the hall to her classroom. She gave him one final pleading glance as he left. He mimicked punching someone out, making her laugh. She gave him a miserable little wave goodbye, and he blew her a kiss before going.

* * *

Lindsay pulled up her pants, buttoning them and picking her shirt up from the floor. Danny grinned at her flushed skin and the hickey just under her collarbone.

"Well if you weren't pregnant before…" he joked, kissing her softly again while buttoning his shirt.

She slipped her shirt on. "I'm not sure if it works that way," she said, adjusting the long sleeves of her soft blue shirt. "How was Jilly this morning?" she asked.

"Awful. She cried. Little bastards threw her favorite hat in the boy's bathroom yesterday."

"Did Super Daddy get it back for her?" Lindsay giggled, kissing his nose.

"Yes, he did," Danny said curtly, "And Super Daddy oughtta rip those little jerks in half."

Lindsay rubbed his cheek with her thumb, brushing the faint tinge of her lip gloss off of it. "She's got to learn how to deal with it on her own. You can't do everything for her."

"Who says?" Danny asked, a hint of pleading resting behind his statement.

"It's the only way, Danny," Lindsay chided, "It's how I got over it."

"You got pushed around like that? Yeah, right," Danny scoffed.

"Well, I let it go. I learned how to deal with it. It's what happens at school. She's just got to find her niche."

"Who pushed you around?" Danny asked, his brow furrowing in anger, "Gimme names."

Lindsay made a 'psht' sound, shoving him from in front of the door to sneak her way out of the broom closet. She slipped into the empty hallway, waiting for his rushed footsteps as he stepped out a minute later.

"Seriously, Linds, she's havin' a hard time. You're tellin' me you think we should do absolutely nothing?"

"Yep," she said as he reappeared at her side. "Aren't you off shift now? It's almost one."

"Maybe I stuck around to see you," he grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She frowned and pushed his hand away. "You're doing it again," she cautioned.

"Doing what?" he asked incredulously, knowing perfectly well what she was talking about.

Lindsay sighed. "Danny, stop. You know how much this bugged me when I was pregnant with Jilly, and when I …" she winced and sped up her pace. "It's suffocating, Danny. I can do plenty of things on my own. I don't need you constantly trying to help me out."

"Well, maybe I shoulda done it the last time," he called from behind her.

Lindsay froze, her limbs heavy and lead-filled. She clutched her hands tightly, forcing herself to fight the sickly feeling filling her from the stomach outward.

"Montana," he said carefully, his voice breaking, "I –"

"Fuck you," she whispered, and turned a corner.

Danny bit his lip and jogged after her. As he rounded the corner, she was nowhere to be seen. "I'm sorry," he called to the empty hallway.

* * *

"Hurry, Jilly, or we'll miss the train," Lindsay said, tugging Jilly along behind her.

"Mommy, do fish drink air?"

"Jilly, not now, we have to make the –" she hurried down the steps into the subway platform to see the train slipping loudly away into the tunnel. She frowned and sat down on a bench with a tired 'oof.'

Jilly crawled onto her lap and looked up at her. "We'll make the next one, Mommy," she said cheerfully, pleased that they now had time to answer her pressing questions.

"I know, Jilly," Lindsay said, cheered up only slightly by her daughter's attempts to make light of the situation. She hugged Jilly to herself lightly and buttoned the little girl's coat.

"Do they?" Jilly asked.

Lindsay looked down at Jilly, clearly confused. "Do who what?"

"Do fish drink air?"

"No. I mean, sort of. Do you want the magical answer or the real answer?" Lindsay asked, repeating her go-to question she'd used since Jilly had started up her intensely curious phase.

"Both," Jilly said, snuggling into Lindsay's chest.

"The real answer is that they are able to use oxygen – do you remember what that is?"

"Uh-huh."

"They use the oxygen in the water to breathe. Their lungs dissolve it into their blood, just like our bodies do." _Basically, _Lindsay mentally corrected herself.

Jilly scrunched up her nose. "What's the magical answer?" she asked.

Lindsay toyed with her usual 'fairies do it' response, but opted instead for one closer to reality. "Well, they eat lots of little bubbles of oxygen in the water, and that's how they breathe."

"Oh," Jilly said. "So that's how Elvis breathes?"

A year earlier, when Jilly's nightmares began to increase in frequency, Danny went out and bought her a goldfish named Elvis to protect her while she slept. Surprisingly, he was still alive and kicking in a fish bowl next to Jilly's bed. Lindsay and Danny referred to him as her 'guard-fish.'

"Yes," Lindsay concluded, "That's how Elvis breathes. Do you have a lot of homework?"

"I have lots of reading," Jilly said glumly.

"Is it hard tonight?"

She shook her head. Sticking her thumb in her mouth, Jilly chanced closing her eyes, letting herself fall victim to the soothing motions of Lindsay tugging her fingers through Jilly's hair. "Where's your hat, honey?" Lindsay asked.

"I don't kno-ow," Jilly whined.

"Do you need Super Daddy to get it from the boy's bathroom again?"

Jilly nodded into Lindsay's shirt. Suddenly, she popped her head up. "Do you think Daddy will play pillow baseball with me tonight?"

"He might. He's being kind of a jack- a meanie today, though."

"Why?" Jilly asked.

"No reason. Look, the train's here! Grab your backpack, or we'll miss it."

* * *

Danny crawled into bed, staring at the lumped figure facing the wall.

"You're not even going to look at me?" he asked. He knew how to tell if she was awake by then. Seven years of marriage would do that to you. Her breathing was irregular, and too shallow and frustrated for her to be sleeping. "I'm sorry, baby, how many times do you want me to say it?"

"Sorry for the baby, or sorry for what you said?" Her voice bounced hollowly off the wall facing her.

"Both," he admitted quietly.

"How was pillow baseball?" she asked dully.

Danny thought back to the game that had nearly resulted in two casualties in the form of pictures hanging on Jilly's wall. "Um," he said eloquently, "good, I guess."

"Did you break anything?" she asked bitterly.

"No," Danny chuckled, attempting to curl up behind her. She was up in a heartbeat, muttering that she had to go to the bathroom and that she'd be right back.

"Aw, c'mon, Lindsay, that's not even fair," Danny cried, leaping out of bed to follow her into the bathroom.

"Go away," she said, trying to shut the door in his face.

He countered her move with a forearm to the door, pressing it open as she turned to the toilet and threw up quickly.

Danny was behind her in an instant, brushing back her hair and pressing a hand to her forehead. "Breathe," he commanded, the cold tile of the floor drawing painfully harsh imprints on his knees.

She gasped and threw up once more, gagging and clutching the top of the toilet so hard her knuckles turned white. When she recovered, wheezing and sputtering, he helped her brush her teeth and climb back into bed. She let him wrap himself around her, encasing her in a cocoon.

"The baby wasn't your fault," she said quietly, when the room had gone silent but for their breathing.

"He wasn't yours either," Danny returned, kissing her temple.

Out of nowhere, for the first time since it happened, Lindsay sobbed. She rolled over to face Danny, surprising him, and buried her face in his shirt, clutching at his biceps as though she were falling. Danny hugged her back, soothing her with nonsensical words and comforts, because, in truth, he wasn't sure how much he could say.

"It was an accident," he finally managed.

"Ah shoubldna biner," Lindsay blubbered into his chest.

"It's OK," Danny murmured, wondering what the hell she'd just said. On a side note, he wondered what kind of day it was that the two girls who mattered most to him would cry so much.

"But I shouldn'tve," Lindsay said, raising her head, "I shouldn't have been there," she sobbed.

_Oh, _Danny thought. "I shouldn'ta let you go, Montana."

Lindsay sniffed. "It wasn't up to you," she mumbled through her tears, resting her head on his chest.

Danny rolled them over so he was on his back, her body stretched on top of his. "If it's anyone's fault, you know," he said, "it's Trent Harper's. The guy never shoulda pushed you like that."

"He couldn't have known I was pregnant."

"Doesn't matter. He shoved you into that rail … and …" Danny bit back the hate he'd had for Harper since the day he'd gotten a call from Mac that Lindsay was in the hospital, hemmoraging profusely from internal bleeding.

"You promised me you wouldn't hurt him," Lindsay reminded him, wiping her tears and snot on Danny's shoulder. Danny grimaced. She giggled a little bit.

"Doesn't mean I still don't want to," Danny said truthfully.

"He's not worth it," Lindsay muttered. Her eyes flickered shut. She was completely spent from the crying, which had never before been so fierce or deep, it seemed.

"He killed our kid, Linds."

"Stop," Lindsay pleaded, tears threatening to escape once again.

Danny sighed and pulled her closer in to him. "Sorry, honey. It's late; we should sleep."

Lindsay hummed contentedly and rested her tearstained cheek on Danny's chest.


	3. Chapter 3

Lindsay moaned, resting her head against the wall to her left. Flushing the toilet and swallowing the bitter bile in her mouth, she pressed the phone to her ear again. "Would you, please?" she asked hoarsely.

"_Sure, Montana, I'll pick her up. You don't gotta worry. Just drink some water, yeah? I'll be home as soon as I can."_

"Thanks, Danny," she rasped, pulling herself to her feet and limping towards the kitchen, her ankle throbbing. "Will you pick up dinner on the way home? I can't cook tonight."

"'_Course, honey. Get some rest."_

Lindsay smiled weakly, thanked him, and hung up. She headed over to the sink and wet a rag. Placing it on her head, she let the cold moisture cool her down. She gulped down some water and headed to the couch, lying down and quickly falling asleep.

* * *

Danny pulled up to the school, checking the clock on the dashboard. "Fuck," he muttered. He couldn't believe he'd lost track of time while processing a sock found at the scene. He was nearly an hour late. He hopped out of the truck and jogged into the school, the gate creaking behind him. There was not a kid in sight.

As he entered the building, he noticed Jilly's bag sitting on one of the chairs near the classroom on his left. Her name was written on it in sequins, a childish tree drawn in sharpie next to it.

"Jilly?" he called, his voice echoing down the hallway. He walked down the linoleum walkway, looking into classrooms left and right.

He soon began hearing the muttered whispers of far-away voices, one of which sounded distinctly like his daughter.

"…not supposed to show them to anyone," Jilly explained matter of factly.

Dread accumulated in the pit of Danny's stomach. He hurried his pace to the origin of the sound, jogging into a classroom labeled 'Mrs. Waters' Third Grade.'

Jilly was sitting on the floor next to Warren, holding a pinch of the powder blue fabric of her underpants, which protruded ever-so-slightly from her jeans. Warren was sitting, eyes squinted, swinging his feet from side to side on the carpet.

"Jilly, what the hell are you doing," Danny asked dangerously.

"Daddy!" Jilly said gratefully, jumping up, "I didn't know where you were," she said sadly.

"Sorry. What are you two doing?"

"Warren wears different underwear than me," Jilly explained, "his are like shorts. And they have racecars on them."

Danny growled low in his throat. "Wait outside and cover your ears," he grumbled, nudging her towards the door. He stomped up to the teacher at the front of the classroom, her eyes staring boring into her book. "You," he said hotly, "You the teacher in charge of them?"

The woman didn't look up.

Danny reached out and snatched the book away from her. He gave a quick glance at the title – _The Many Loves of Eleanor Berton_. The teacher's head snapped up to look at Danny.

"Wha – may I help you?"

"Yeah, you can help me, you can start by telling me what the hell you think you're doin' letting my daughter play doctor with some kid twice her size!" Danny yelled.

"We weren't playing doctor, Mr. Messer," Warren piped up from behind Danny, "She was just showing me her underwear."

Danny whirled around and pointed a finger at him. "You. You're next. She's first." He whipped back around, addressing the woman once more. "Anything coulda happened, and you just sit there starin' at your dumb-ass romance novel! What the hell's the matter with you?"

The teacher, presumably Mrs. Waters, stood and stared him down. "I beg your pardon, Sir, but who the hell are you?"

"I'm Jillian's father. You know, the little girl you just allowed to be defiled?"

"I think you're taking it a _bit _too far, Mr. Messer –"

"Yeah? Am I? You didn't even look up when I came in here! What the hell would you have done if some kidnapper had walked in here and gone off with one of them? Wait until you finished your next chapter to call the police? Or would you even notice?" Danny shouted.

"I – I –" Mrs. Waters said feebly. Realization set in and she went on the defensive. "Look, the school can only watch children until three thirty, and it's almost four fifteen! If you care that much about your daughter's safety, then pick her up on time."

Danny gave a frustrated snort and turned on Warren. The little red-haired boy was sitting patiently in his chair, looking up at Danny. "And you," Danny growled. Before he spoke, he caught himself, remembering the talk he and Lindsay had had the night before. He knelt down on one knee, bringing himself to the boy's level.

"Look, kid," he said, his voice evening out and growing soft, "I know you two are friends and – fine, OK, whatever, but if you so much as _look _at her underwear again or show her yours, then I will make sure you never see her again. Got it?"

Warren nodded, his freckled little nose bobbing up and down furiously.

"Good," Danny said, straightening up. "No kissing, either," he grunted as he walked out the door.

Jilly was sitting on the floor, her hands pressed over her ears, humming to herself. She looked up at Danny. A heavy pout was on her face.

"Don't give me that," Danny cautioned, picking up her bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

Jilly took her hands away from her ears and marched ahead of him, her soft curls bouncing behind her. She folded her arms across her chest, when the cold air hit them, her lower lip trembling. She stomped across the yard to the car, snow exploding under her footsteps and wetting the ends of her jeans.

"JJ, honey, don't be mad," Danny asked, opening the car door and putting her backpack on the passenger's seat. He turned to look at her pouting face as she stood by the car door, glaring up at him.

"I hate you," she said quietly.

"Don't say that," Danny pleaded, kneeling in the snow. "I know you don't mean it." He reached out a hand to touch her arm.

She wrenched away from his grasp and took off running down before Danny knew what she was doing.

"You're the worst daddy ever!" she screamed behind her, racing into the street.

"Jilly not in the – fuck," Danny swore, closing the door to the car and pressing the 'lock' button on his keys as he jogged after her. "Not in the street!" he shouted as she reached the opposite sidewalk and sprinted along the path.

Danny quickly glanced back and forth down the street, waiting for a Semi truck to pass before racing off after her.

"Jillian Messer you get your ass back here now!" he called after her. He was two feet from her when she turned a corner quickly, where it became evident that she was heading for Central Park, no more than two blocks ahead of her. Danny took a large step ahead of her, quickly wrapping an arm around her and swinging her up off the sidewalk.

She continued to kick her little legs furiously, fighting to get out of his grip. Danny got a hold on her legs with his other arm, constricting her movement. She fought him fiercely, grunting and sobbing and squirming to get her legs out of his tight hold. Danny ignored her futile attempts and walked calmly back to the car, occasionally hoisting her up higher and adjusting his grip.

Once they got to the car, he shifted the now-limp Jilly to one arm and opened the door. He sat her down in the car seat and buckled her in. Once he'd finished he turned her chin up so she could meet his gaze.

"Don't you _dare_ run off into the street like that, Jillian," he said, his eyes blazing, "You coulda been hurt." He stepped back and slammed the door shut.

* * *

After a car ride filled only with the sound of Jilly's quiet hiccups and sniffles, Danny pulled in front of their apartment building. He got Jilly out of the car and set her down on the sidewalk. She wiped her runny nose with the back of her sleeve. He knelt before her and took her hands. She looked up at him, her eyes red from crying.

"Jillian, I want you to listen to me. I'm sorry I was late to pick you up, but what you were doing with Warren wasn't OK."

"Why?" she whined softly, fresh tears pouring from her eyes, "He's my best friend."

"You don't show boys your underwear like that."

"I just wanted to see what his looked like. He wanted to see what mine were like," she explained tearfully. "That's all," she sobbed.

"OK, OK," Danny said, wiping her tears away with the back of his hand, "I'm sorry I yelled about it. But that's over, got it? When you're with boys, you keep all your clothes on. No showing anything." He rested a hand on her cheek and smoothed away her remaining tears with his thumb.

"OK," Jilly sniffed.

"And what you did today was wrong, JJ. You can't go running off like that. If you're mad at me, you tell me. You don't run away. Especially not into the street."

"I'm sorry," Jilly said, staring down at the ground.

"It's fine now. Just promise me you won't ever do that again."

She nodded. "I promise."

"Good," Danny sighed, standing to his feet. He took her hand and pulled the take-out from the car. "When we get upstairs, you gotta be good, 'cause mommy's tired."

Jilly nodded, looking wide-eyed up at Danny. "Is mommy sick?"

"No, not … not really." Danny and Lindsay had hesitated to tell Jilly about the baby. When Lindsay had been pregnant the second time, they'd never gone right out and told her. Jilly had been three, and besides the occasional vague hint ("_You're going to have to share your toys at home soon, Jilly, you might as well share them at school.") _they'd avoided the topic completely. Now that she was more astute, and considerably older, they both knew that eventually the topic would come up. Each time Danny brought it up, Lindsay begged and pleaded with him not to tell her just yet. _Anything can happen, _Lindsay kept repeating. _But I won't let it, _Danny had responded each time.

* * *

"Daddy," Jilly stage whispered, "Mommy's sleeping on the couch."

"OK," Danny whispered back, grinning at her, "I'll take care of her. Put your stuff in your room, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

He trudged into the living room, where Lindsay was splayed out on the couch, a cloth lying on her forehead. He bent down and lifted her, letting her sleepily adjust to the change in position. He took her into their bedroom and laid her down on the bed.

"Linds," he said quietly.

"No," she mumbled.

"I got food. I'll bring some in here."

"No," she muttered again, snuggling down further into the blankets.

"You gotta eat," he said, brushing her hair back from her face. He kissed her sweetly on the cheek and headed back into the kitchen.

* * *

"No kissing?" Jilly asked dubiously.

"None. Absolutely none," Danny grunted, heating up some take-out for Lindsay. "Put your plate in the sink, Jillian, I'm not gonna do it for you."

Jilly stood on her tip-toes and carefully, precariously placed the plate on top of the counter. Danny lifted it for her and washed it off before putting it in the dishwasher.

"No hugging?" Jilly asked, peering up at Danny.

"Hugging is OK."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, sweetie."

"Is Mommy going to die?"

Danny dropped the fork he was washing with a clank into the sink. "No," he said, "What gave you that idea?"

"She's always throwing up and she cries all the time," Jilly said worriedly, shoving her thumb in her mouth as she waited for Danny's response.

He looked down at her, taking in her big eyes that begged for reassurance, the childish thumb-sucking that she just couldn't get rid of. He knelt down in front of her, wiping his soapy hands on his jeans. "No, she's not going to die. She's just a little sick, that's all. Don't worry about it, OK?"

Jilly nodded. She popped her thumb out of her mouth. "Will you read to me?"

"Sure," Danny said, hoisting her up onto his hip, "What'cha wanna read?"

"_The Little Prince_," Jilly said excitedly, worry gone. Because if Daddy said it was fine, then it was fine.

* * *

Danny carefully closed Jilly's door with a light click, leaving her curled up in her hot pink covers with her thumb firmly locked in her mouth.

He sighed and rubbed his nose with his thumb and forefinger, hoping that the nightmares wouldn't come later that night. At least one night a week, he and Lindsay were interrupted from sleep by frightened whimpering, then a pattering of feet as Jilly raced into their room and catapulted herself onto their bed, scrabbling at one of their shirts and begging to sleep with them. He and Lindsay had been talking for weeks about a child therapist, although it could be incredibly costly.

They'd been assured by a number of parenting books that nightmares were completely ordinary for children Jilly's age, but, then again, there was the fact that Jilly dreamed of the same thing each time – someone creeping into the house and snatching her, shoving her into a truck.

As he carefully balanced a plate of food for Lindsay and a cup of water in his hands, Danny wondered for the millionth time why he hadn't killed Greg Moody when he'd had the chance. _Little scumbag should be rotting in the ground, not out walking the streets, _Danny thought angrily. Since Greg had been released from a mental institution a year before, Danny's guilt over not killing his daughter's kidnapper and wife's stalker that cold night, when Greg had been laid out on the sidewalk before him.

He entered his and Lindsay's bedroom, placed the food on the bedside table, and softly shook Lindsay awake. "Dinner," he whispered.

She smiled as she stretched and sat up. Danny smoothed back her hair and gave her a sip of the water, bringing the cup to her lips. She took the bowl he handed her and started to eat.

"So," she said, taking a spoonful of the chicken soup, "how was your day?"

Danny shrugged, stealing half of her bread roll. "Same ol', same ol'. How's the baby doing?"

She grimaced. "So far, just making me vomit. A lot."

"You been drinking water? Keepin' hydrated, alla that?"

"Yes, Danny," she mocked, leaning back with a groan. "And my back is killing me. And I twisted my ankle scrambling for the toilet, too."

Danny carefully took the bowl of chicken soup sitting precariously in her lap. "Three more big bites and I'll give you a back massage."

"Yes, sir," Lindsay said, sitting up. She let him feed her the last three bites, then scooted forwards so he could sit behind her. She leaned onto her bent knees and sighed softly as he lifted her shirt and started working on her back.

"Jilly's pissed at me," Danny mused, working up her spine, "I picked her up late. She blew a gasket, took off running." He chuckled. "She was pretty damn fast, too. I got her before she hit the park."

"Hmm," Lindsay said, "Did you do anything else?"

"What?" he asked, his hands pausing.

Lindsay groaned, hugging her knees, "Don't stop," she pleaded.

Danny moved his hands again, working out a particularly thick knot above her left hip. "What 'else' we talkin' here?"

"Well that can't be all you did," Lindsay murmured.

"I mighta yelled at the teacher. And told her to stop showing her underwear to the guys. The usual."

Lindsay chuckled. "She was showing off her underwear?"

"Yep."

"Huh," Lindsay grinned. She leaned her head further into her knees, pillowing her face between them.

"I mean, thing is, I know she ain't doin' it for them, she just wants to. She doesn't see the problem, you know?" He sighed and moved his hands up to her shoulders, digging his thumbs into the flesh next to her spine. "She's just being a little kid, but if she does it to the wrong person … Jesus, I don't even want to think about that. I just want her to be safe, and I don't want to tell her about it because I don't want her to know about it." He chuckled. "Kind of a paradox, doncha think? Linds?" He leaned forwards and heard her soft breathing.

Carefully slipping out from behind her, he slid her shirt back down and laid her down in the bed. He took off his shoes, shirt, pants, and t-shirt and crawled in next to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Love you, baby," he whispered to her stomach. "You, too," he grinned, kissing Lindsay's ear.

She gave a soft sigh in response and subconsciously wiggled into him.


	4. Chapter 4

_The high school is made up for my own reasons. This is rated a strong T for content._

* * *

Jilly carefully held the thermometer close to the lamp, watching the red liquid slip up into the 100s. Once it hit her desired point, she raced into the kitchen, where her parents were already making breakfast.

"…saying is, be careful, yeah?" Danny finished as Jilly came running up to him. "Yeah, JJ, what's up?"

"Daddy, I'm sick, look!" Jilly said, handing him the thermometer. Danny took it, frowned, and quickly felt her forehead, handing the thermometer to Lindsay. Lindsay gasped and pressed her own hand alongside Jilly's cheek.

"Hey, Jilly, go wait in your room for a minute while Daddy and I talk, OK?" Lindsay asked, glancing at Danny.

Jilly nodded solemnly and headed into her bedroom, walking as though any slight movement would cause an explosion.

"Well," Lindsay giggled, "Looks like I gave birth to a human torch."

Danny grinned. "A hundred and twenty degrees? Man, someone's gotta teach her how to play sick."

"So what do we do?" Lindsay asked, placing the thermometer down next to the sink, "Send her into the Lion's den? We can't just let her stay home. We both have work."

"What time does your shift start, nine?"

"Yes."

"So, I gotta be in by one. You're off at two, so we could pull it off if we tell her to be real quiet in the lab –"

"We can't let her play hookey, Danny."

"And why's that? It's kindergarten, who gives a shit if she goes or not?" Danny asked indignantly.

"Danny, she has to go to school. We can't let her think that she can wiggle her way out of it."

"Fine," he sighed, "you're right. I'll tell her – you try to get some rest before your shift." He kissed her softly and headed into Jilly's room.

* * *

He felt awful kissing Jilly goodbye when she wouldn't look at him, her tearstained cheeks glistening in the cold air. Even as he pulled the collar of her navy coat up to her ears and adjusted her electric blue scarf around her neck, she turned her head away.

The image of her last, pleading glance stuck with him all the way into the crime lab. Heading in, he noticed a rush of activity as Mac, Hawkes, and Lindsay rushed out.

"Danny, I was just about to call you –" Mac said gravely, "There's been a shooting at a high school. We need you on the scene. Where's your vest?"

"In the car," he said, moving into action alongside them, "What school?"

"Washington High School. You wan to ride with Lindsay and I'll go with Hawkes? Stella's already there."

"Sure."

* * *

The noise was ear-splitting. Helicopters overhead, news and police, sirens blaring in the streets, the hum of worried bystanders, and – most terrifying – the screams of parents as they reached to clutch their bloodied teenagers.

"Mac, did they ever apprehend the guy?" Danny shouted over the noise, suddenly realizing what was going on.

"Not a guy. A student. He's holding about fifty others hostage in the library," Mac said, strapping his vest on, "but they suspect that another student is a shooter, hiding somewhere in the school. They believe that, if we process the scene, we'll know who to look for and therefore who's a victim and who's our killer."

"So anyone could be the second perp," Sheldon said, glancing around at the screaming, bloody, dazed students still tumbling out of the school doors.

Danny turned quickly to Lindsay, who was already pulling their kits out of the truck. "You shouldn't be here," he murmured, "It's dangerous."

"Danny, don't start," Lindsay said, tugging her vest over her head, adjusting the straps to fit over her slightly swollen belly.

"No," Danny said, "this is exactly what I was talking about this morning. You can't go in there."

"Danny …" Lindsay warned.

"Yo, Mac!" Danny called to his boss. Then, more quietly, to Lindsay, "One of us is going to tell him about the baby right here and now."

Mac jogged over. "What is it?"

All the while glaring furiously at Danny, Lindsay spoke up. "I'm two months pregnant, and Danny doesn't want me here."

"Then neither do I. He's right, it's not safe," Mac said, "Stella's coming out with some evidence; you can take it back to the lab."

Danny breathed out in relief. Mac headed over to Stella, who emerged from the building holding her kit and directing the men holding a dead body on a gurney to go around the crowd.

Lindsay turned to Danny, "You never do that again," she hissed angrily.

"Do what?" Danny asked.

"You bastard," she snarled, shoving her kit back into the truck.

"Linds, I'm trying to prevent something from happening to you –"

"I can do that on my own, Danny," Lindsay shouted, walking quickly around to the other side of the truck.

Danny chased after her. "Lindsay, I'm not about to tell you I'm sorry. I'm protecting you."

"Well I don't fucking need you to!" Lindsay shouted, clambering into the truck. "Put the evidence in the back, and stop wasting time."

Danny helped Stella load the truck, making one last effort to approach the driver's side to explain himself, when Lindsay roared away, spraying snow from the sidewalk in her wake.

Danny sighed and followed Mac into the building. The knelt down before the body of a boy in a football jersey, his stomach down on the floor, blood pooling below him. Mac peered at the wound just above the small of the boy's back.

"I think this one didn't go through. Bullet looks to be still in there. I'll have Sid extract it," Mac said. He stood and called for an ME.

Flack jogged up the hallway behind the body. "Yo, Mac! Danny! We got another body upstairs."

"I got it," Danny said, standing up. "You got this one?" he asked Mac.

Mac nodded and waved him off.

* * *

"She can't be more than fifteen," Danny said sadly, setting his kit next to the young girl who lay, light brown eyes still wide open in terror, splayed on the floor of the school. A neat bullet wound was set right between her eyes.

Flack nodded and pulled out his gun as a precaution, glancing around the echoing, threatening hallway. "Wrap this up, Danny, I don't got a good feeling about this," he said nervously.

Danny carefully turned the girl's head, noticing a glittering substance around the wound. He swabbed it. "She's got a muzzle stamp here – guy held the gun to her head," he said, "But there's also some kind of trace here. Looks like some kind of sheer glitter."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" Flack said, lightening the mood slightly.

"Yeah," Danny said solemnly, thinking back to his frightened daughter that morning.

"We should ask around, see if they have this stuff at the school. It's only around the wound, so I'd say this poor girl didn't bring it with her before the attack," Danny said, standing up. He walked around her body, checking for obvious signs that she'd been disturbed or moved. "Who found her? You?" he asked, bending to check a scuff mark on the floor.

"Naw, a uniform on the lookout for this psycho," Flack responded. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Mac's number. "Hey, Mac, can you ask the principal if some classroom has glitter? We found some on a vic."

Danny looked up as Flack listened to the response, waiting for Mac to ask.

"Really?" Flack said, "And that kid's name would be?"

Danny photographed the scuff mark, wondering what kind of shoe would leave a bluish smear behind.

"Great. Thanks, Mac." Flack snapped his phone shut. "So, looks like the school is using sheer glitter in the school play, Cinderella."

"So it could be anyone in the play," Danny said.

"Nope. Stuff hasn't been used in rehearsals yet. Only people with access to them are set guys, one of which is currently in the library holdin these kids hostage," Flack said.

"So he shot this girl?" Danny asked.

"Naw. Sid gave TOD on this girl as no more than an hour ago. Guy's been in that library for the past two and a half hours."

Danny grinned. "Boom. Who else has access to the glitter?"

"Kid called Derek Richards. Mac's looking for him outside, just in case, but looks like he's the only one who has access to the set design glitter."

"We got him, then," Danny said, "We get a description?"

Flack gulped. "Don't think we need one," he muttered, lifting his gun at a figure near the end of the hall. "Derek Richards, NYPD! Let go of the girl and drop your weapon!" he called.

Danny turned to the end of the hall, where a young, nervous boy with greasy dark hair was holding tightly to a polished, blonde girl in a cheerleader's outfit. The girl looked frightened out of her mind as she faced Derek, her nose nearly touching his. His entire body was flush to hers, except for his arm, which stretched up to hold a gun to her head.

"Derek, put the gun down," Danny added, taking out his weapon, glancing down at Derek's blue-soled shoes.

"Please," the girl begged, squeezing her eyes shut. A small tear slipped out, catching on a piece of glitter Derek had transferred to her cheek. She had bright green laces in her shoes, and Danny's mind flashed to Jilly. But he chased his personal life out of the situation and kept his gun trained on Derek.

Derek clicked the safety off his gun, steadying his face.

"No," the girl whimpered.

"Derek, don't do this," Flack shouted, closing in on the shaky teenage boy.

"Give me one good reason," Derek snarled.

The hallway was silent. Flack opened his mouth but the girl in Derek's arms beat him to it.

"In third grade you saved the class mouse," she said quickly, "You made Mrs. Wienstein give him to you so he wouldn't have to be taken away by animal control." Another tear slipped down her cheek.

"So?" Derek growled, though his face showed that he was thrown by the quick remark.

The girl bit a glossed lip and chanced opening her eyes. "If you did that, then you can do this," she whispered.

"How do you remember that?" Derek asked.

"You're not as invisible as you think, Derek," the girl said.

Danny glanced at Flack. "Look, Derek, you can fix this. You can stop this before it goes another step. Give me the gun," he said, taking another step forwards.

Flack reacted in kind, bringing them closer and closer to the young, scared couple at the end of the hallway.

Derek's hand slowly slipped down, the gun sliding down the girl's temple to just below her cheekbone. "What do you mean?" he asked hoarsely, "That I'm not invisible, what's that mean?" he asked quickly, his voice cracking.

"No one's invisible, Derek," Flack said, taking another small step forwards.

"I am," Derek said, his eyes darting to glance at Flack out of the corner of his vision, then back to the girl in his arms. "You can't remember that," he said, bringing his gun back up to her temple, "You can't, Lila, you're not the kind of person that remembers that."

"How do you know what kind of person I am?" Lila responded, relaxing in the loosening of Derek's grip on her arm.

Derek snorted, "You're the captain of the football team's girlfriend. Straight A student. Head cheerleader. I know who you are," he sniffed, his finger tightening around the trigger.

Flack raised his gun higher, pointing it at Derek's head.

"What did she do to you? Is that some kind of personal offense?" Danny asked, "Just because she is who she is, that pisses you off? Gives her reason to die?"

"Yeah," Derek said, snarling.

"That's not who I am," Lila whispered, "Derek, that's not who I am," she pleaded.

"I don't care," he snorted.

"Yes, you do. You gave me a bite of your sandwich in fifth grade when I forgot mine," she ventured, "I didn't even ask." Her voice faded at the end. She stared deep into his cold eyes, searching for the warmth she'd found once upon a time.

"You don't just stop bein' a person like that," Danny said, "Shit like that stays with you."

"C'mon, Derek, we can end this without people getting hurt," Flack added, "Hand over the gun."

Derek slackened the gun, letting it drift lower and lower on Lila's face. "What'll happen to me?" he asked, his voice suddenly weak.

Danny and Flack glanced at each other. Flack spoke up, "We ain't gonna lie to you, man, it won't be easy – there will be jail time if the prosecution proves that you orchestrated this, that you killed some of these kids. But if you talk about your buddy in the library, give him up on the stand, then the jury's gonna go easier on you."

Derek winced. "I'll go to jail?" he asked. He gritted his teeth and gave a harsh laugh. "They've been teasing me for years and years. Since first grade. They get nothing?"

"I'm sorry," Lila whispered, "I'm so sorry I never stopped them."

"Kids can be mean, Derek," Danny said. He swallowed loudly. "I got a … uh … I got a girl in kindergarten that don't wanna go to school. Tried to fake sick this morning, actually. They call her names, alla that. It's how it goes. Everyone gets it."

"It hurts more than you know," Derek said, turning and shooting a boring gaze into Danny's eyes, "Stays with you forever."

"It goes away after high school," Flack promised, "You'll see. It starts to fade."

"It won't fade," Derek scoffed, moving away from Lila. He kept the gun trained on her head as he moved backwards. "It won't fade, and I'll be in jail."

"Derek," Flack warned, "Don't do this …"

"It won't fade, and I won't be free," Derek said, "I'll never be free."

"Derek," Lila pleaded, her eyes widening, "Don't –"

Before any of them could react, Derek turned the gun on himself and fired one shot under his own chin. Blood and brain matter exploded behind him. To all parties involved, it felt as if he fell in slow motion. Lila bent to her knees next to him, gasping.

Danny and Flack slowly lowered their weapons. "Fuck," Flack muttered.

Lila crept over to Derek. Flack bent down next to her. "C'mon, kiddo, let's get you outside."

"Wh – he just – that's –" Lila spluttered, tears dripping down her cheeks, "I thought I was helping him," she whispered.

"You did all you could, Lila," he promised, helping her up. Danny remained motionless beside the body, staring at the glitter on the boy's gun, mingling with the blood. He watched the light reflect off of the boy's clothes.

"Messer, c'mon," Flack said, helping Lila down the hall.

Danny struggled for words, then turned and followed the two of them out of the building, past the two dead bodies in the hall.


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter is rated M, so all underage readers, beware._

* * *

"…he came up behind me. I barely heard him. I thought it was Matthew coming back from the computer lab, but …" Lila's voice turned raspy. She cleared her throat and swallowed. Flack looked up from his notepad, finishing his sentence.

Danny zoned out, his eyes fixed on the glitter shimmering on Lila's temple. The girl was drenched in Derek's blood.

"Keep going," Flack urged, looking at the girl.

"He grabbed me," she continued, "dragged me down the hall, and that's when I saw you guys near Matthew's body." She heaved a sob, "I can't believe he's dead."

Her mother, sitting primly next to her, patted her knee. "I know you made Matthew very happy, darling," she said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

"That's not who I meant," the girl whispered in a voice that Flack and Danny could barely hear.

"Mrs. Platt, can I speak to you over here?" Flack asked, looking meaningfully at Danny as he brought the woman over to a police car, away from the ambulance.

"How long did you know Derek?" Danny asked, sitting down on the back of the ambulance next to Lila.

"Since first grade. We used to talk …" she laughed hollowly, "I had a crush on him. Until fifth grade. We used to be friends."

"What happened?" Danny asked.

"I … I started …" she cleared her throat again, "I found other friends. The other kids made fun of him and I just couldn't …" she started to sob again, "I couldn't deal with it. I never said anything."

Danny patted her back awkwardly, as Flack allowed her mother to comfort her sobbing child.

* * *

"Jesus," Danny muttered as the body of the second shooter was brought out on a stretcher, bullet wounds peppering his body. He walked into the library with Sheldon and the two began to process the scene. They collected assorted pencils, swabbed pools of blood, and Sheldon practically froze when he found a childish, sticker-ed binder with blood pooling on the cover.

Hours later, when the sky was well past dark and a light dusting of snow was beginning to fall, Danny made it home. He shut the door as quietly as he could and headed straight for Jilly's room. She was curled up on the bed, holding on to a stuffed penguin and sucking her thumb. Danny bent down immediately and kissed her head, her soft golden curls tickling his nose.

"Daddy?" she murmured around her thumb, never opening her eyes.

"Hey, JJ," he whispered.

"'M sleeping," she murmured.

"Yeah," he said.

"You can fit," she mumbled, and scooted over to the far end of the bed. Danny took the invitation, slipping in next to her, on top of the covers. He tucked an arm over her, hugging her to his chest. She turned over to face him, wiggling under the covers.

"Did you have a nightmare?" she asked sleepily, opening one eye lazily.

"You could say that," Danny chuckled tiredly.

Jilly adjusted her head on the pillow. "It's over now," Jilly whispered back, repeating the words he and Lindsay had been telling her since she was three.

Danny's eyes stung as he swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yeah," he whispered back.

"Danny," Lindsay hissed from the door, "Where have you been?"

Danny glanced up at her, framed in the doorway, clutching her stomach. He pushed himself up, pressing one more kiss to Jilly's head, and slipped off of her bed. He walked out the door, closed it behind him, and hugged Lindsay tighter than he ever had before, bending his head to bury his face in her neck as he sobbed quietly.

Lindsay wrapped her arms around him within seconds, pulling him close to her body and holding the back of his head to her neck as he shook uncontrollably in her arms.

"It's OK," she whispered, "It's OK now."

"They were just kids," Danny hissed through his tears, "Lindsay, they coulda been anyone's kids –"

"It won't happen to her," Lindsay promised. She took his hand and held it to her stomach, "Either of them."

He took a deep breath, sniffed, and rubbed at his eyes. She leaned in and kissed him softly. As she started to pull away, he leaned in, kissing her vigorously, longing to be with someone who was living and breathing. He harshly pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her smooth, silky skin. He practically ripped her drawstring open, letting her flannel pajama bottoms fall to the floor.

Lindsay easily relaxed into his touch, letting him hold her how he needed. He tugged off his own jacket, shirt, and pants, kicking them behind him as he walked her back into the bedroom, lifting her when he couldn't take their slow pace any longer. He held her thighs up with painful desperation, digging his fingers into her flesh, leaving painful smarts that Lindsay was sure would bruise. She didn't care, though, merely held him tighter.

He fell to the bed, crushing her between his naked chest and the rumpled covers, evidence of her hasty departure from the bed not more than a few moments earlier.

He moved on top of her, grinding himself into her, tangling his fingers in her hair. He let his mouth move slowly to just below her ear, where he bit the flesh, eliciting a surprised moan from her. She moved her fingers into his hair and kissed him. He shoved his tongue into her mouth, kissing her with bruising strength. She opened her mouth to him, kissing him back sweetly, letting him get it out. She couldn't deny that it turned her on something fierce as well to allow him to be in such control.

Danny fiercely pulled her panties down, tearing them in the process. He rubbed his fingers vigorously across Lindsay's center, watching her let loose a whimpering moan. He crushed his mouth against hers, murmuring, "Shh, Jilly's in the next room," to her lips. She felt his mouth move over hers as he said the words, and slowly tilted her head to turn the sentence into a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Danny's breath quickened. He removed his fingers and shoved down his boxers, slamming into her without warning. Lindsay bit his lip to hold back her moan. He pounded into her, lifting her leg up higher and higher above his hip while he worked.

They came together, breathing harshly and hiding screams behind bites and kisses. As he poured into her, Danny started to sob again, allowing his head to drop upon her naked collarbone. Lindsay shifted, allowing him to move out of her, and kissed his head. "I know, I know," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," he started, "I don't –"

"Don't be sorry," Lindsay whispered gently, hugging him, "It's OK."

She smoothed his hair until he fell asleep on her naked body, his face buried into her neck as though begging for something.

Shivering lightly, she pulled the covers up on top of both of them and silently thanked Danny for letting her leave the scene.

* * *

She woke to Danny lightly trailing his fingertips on her hip, tracing over the finger marks on her skin. Somehow during the night he'd managed to shift behind her, spooning her. She shivered at the delicate touch and smiled, squeezing her eyes tighter. Danny leaned down and kissed the skin lightly, breathing soft apologies on her body. Lindsay rolled onto her back. Danny planted a hand over on the other side of her, resting his chin on his hand and leaning over her. She smiled at him.

"Good morning," she said sleepily.

He bit his lip and stared at her intently. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, "I'll never do that to you again, Linds –"

"Did you hear me say no?"

"Well, no, but –"

"Then don't apologize," she shrugged, stroking his cheek with the outside edge of her thumb. "Would you let me do something like that if I needed it?"

"Yeah," he grinned, "'Course."

"I liked it, Danny," she smiled, "Not only because it felt good, but because when you need something I can give, then I don't care what it is."

"I love you," he smiled, leaning down and kissing her sweetly.

She glanced at the clock and whimpered at the time, knowing she had to get to work. "Jilly needs some rest, so don't wake her too early. Thank god it's Saturday. Please tell me you're not on call today," she frowned.

Danny gave a half shrug with the shoulder he wasn't using to hold his head up. "I might be."

"You know I have to work today – why did you tell Mac you could do that?" she groaned, slipping out of bed and pulling on her underwear.

"It's a big case, Linds – we can get it wrapped up quick, get it in court. If he thinks he needs an extra hand, I wanna be around to –"

"And who's going to take care of your daughter?" Lindsay sighed, pulling on her bra. She reached behind herself and attempted to snap it shut in her frustrated state. "Are you going to take her to the lab? Let her see all of that?"

"No," Danny said slowly, furiously trying to work out a plausible excuse in his head, "I just wanted to help."

"OK," Lindsay sighed. She leaned down and kissed him, while tugging on a clean pair of jeans. "I'm going to go. I'll talk to Mac. Don't let Jilly leave the house without a jacket; it's going to be freezing today. I love you," she said, slipping out the bedroom door.

* * *

"Will you push me on the swings, Daddy?" she asked, her breath silvery air.

"You're gonna freeze your little butt off, JJ."

"Please?" she begged, reaching up and tugging on his hand.

"A'right, a'right," he muttered. He lifted her up onto the swings and walked around behind her. "You know how to swing, Jilly, you don't need me to push you."

"It's _better_ when you do it," she explained, "And I need a starting push anyways."

"OK," Danny chuckled, and pulled the swing back, making sure she was holding on tightly. He let go when she was at a reasonable height. Jilly shrieked as the swing climbed up, swinging her feet back and forth. Danny pushed her until she told him she could do it herself. He gave her one last push and stepped back to sit on a bench near the sand pit. He brushed the thin layer of snow off of it and sat down, watching Jilly swing.

"Daddy, can I jump?" she shouted back to him.

"No," he shouted back, "not until you're lower."

"Please?"

"No!"

She slowed herself down, dragging her snowboots on the ground below her. "Now?" she asked.

"Fine, yeah. Be careful, and don't land on your face –"

She laughed as she let go of the swing and feel the foot-and-a-half distance to the snow ground. She stood and brushed herself off. She raised her hands up into the air. "Did you see me, Daddy?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah," Danny chuckled, "Now what about something to eat? It's almost lunch."

Jilly hopped over to the bench and crawled into his lap. "OK," she grinned.

Danny brushed snow out of her honey curls and lifted her up onto his hip, giving her a little seat in the crook of his arm.

* * *

"Mommy," Jilly hissed, creeping into the bedroom. Lindsay sat up on the bed, hair tousled, and squinted at the doorway.

"Jilly?" she asked, disoriented by the harsh light coming from the hall. She always left the lights on for Danny, a nervous tick she couldn't seem to be rid of. It derived from a fear that he wouldn't come home one day, and she would sleep through it and never notice. She liked having something waiting for him at the house, if only a light.

"Mommy, I had a nightmare," Jilly whispered, tears evident on her cheeks.

"Well, hop on the bed then, Jilly," Lindsay smiled, albeit bleary eyed, and tugged the covers on Danny's side of the bed down. Jilly scrambled over to the bed and quickly climbed onto it, scooting towards the warm spot where Lindsay was. She curled into Lindsay's side, burying her face in the old t-shirt Lindsay was wearing.

"What did you dream about?" Lindsay asked sleepily, settling back down on the pillow.

"Same as before," Jilly whispered.

"It's OK now," Lindsay promised, and brought over her other arm to hold Jilly in her arms.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," Jilly said, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

Lindsay sat up and wiped sleep from her own eyes, forcing herself awake. "Well, do you want me to stay up for you?" she asked.

"I want to stay up, too," Jilly said. She scooted onto Lindsay's lap as Lindsay sat back on the headboard of the bed.

Lindsay bent her legs, creating a chair for Jilly's back to rest on. They faced each other, Jilly in her Speed Racer pajamas and Lindsay in a tattered Giants shirt of Danny's.

"You know, Speed Racer's my favorite cartoon," Lindsay said, tugging on the sleeve of the flannel pajama.

"I know," Jilly giggled, "Daddy said Batman was better."

"Well, he's going to regret it," Lindsay teased, tucking Jilly's hair behind her ear sweetly. "What did you two do today?" she asked.

"Daddy made me pancakes, and then he took me to the park. And we had lunch at a restaurant like grown-ups," she said proudly.

"Wow," Lindsay said, pretending to be amazed, "He doesn't even do that to me anymore," she joked.

"Yes he does," Jilly laughed, "You went out three nights ago!" she exclaimed.

"I know, I know," Lindsay sighed dramatically. She kissed Jilly's forehead and brought the girl to her chest, slowly tangling her fingers in her little girl's hair. "So you had fun?" she asked absentmindedly, rubbing Jilly's back in the desperate hope that something would lull her to sleep.

"Uh huh," Jilly said.

"Did you talk about Warren?"

"Sort of," Jilly admitted.

"How's he doing, by the way? Is your marriage doing well?"

"Yeah. He wants to be an ambulance driver when he grows up, and he says I can help him drive it."

"That's nice of him," Lindsay chuckled. She bent down, her hair tickling her as it slipped and fell in front of her eyes, a sheer curtain from the rest of the world. "He's such a sweet boy," she said, kissing Jilly's head again. She sat up, shaking the hair out of her eyes. She glanced at the clock. She noticed that it was ten o'clock, nearly two hours past Jillian's bedtime. The fact that it was an hour past when Danny said he'd be home didn't escape her, either.

"Mommy?"

"Hmm."

"What was your wedding like?"

Lindsay closed her eyes and smiled. "It was nice," she said softly, "Daddy was all dressed up for once. He had a tuxedo on," she chuckled.

"What's that?"

"A tuxedo? It's one of those suits … like penguins. It looks like what penguins look like."

"Oh," Jilly said, "What did you wear?"

Lindsay leaned back on the headboard. "I had a white dress. It was long – all the way to the floor. It was really soft, too, like swan feathers should feel like. Your Uncle Flack was there, and so was your Aunt Stella, your Uncle Sheldon, and your Uncle Mac. And Sid …" Lindsay laughed, "Sid broke the wedding cake." She took a deep breath. "It was in a garden – a big, green garden outside the city. There were flowers everywhere." Her voice grew softer as she started to slip into the memory. "It was perfect. Your Daddy and I gave each other rings, and said our vows –"

"What's that?"

"They're what you say to someone to tell them that you want to get married."

"Oh."

"We said our vows, and then daddy kissed me."

"Ew," Jilly giggled sleepily.

"Well, I liked it," Lindsay smiled at the memory. There had been so much sweetness in that kiss, none of the heavy passion that usually persisted in any touch he gave her. It was the softest, sweetest, gentlest kiss she'd ever received, and when he'd pulled back from her, she saw that his eyes were soft and warm, and she knew then, more than ever, that he loved her more than anything.

"I liked it, too," Danny said. Lindsay opened her eyes and glanced at the doorway, where Danny was leaning casually on the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.

"Look who decided to show up," Lindsay teased, continuing to rub on Jilly's back. She glanced down at her chest, where she noticed that Jilly had fallen asleep. "Finally," she murmured, and slowly rotated out of the bed, holding Jilly gently.

"I can take her," Danny offered.

"I've got it," Lindsay said, "You get ready for bed." She eased off the bed and headed into Jilly's room.

Danny brushed his teeth and stripped to his boxers before collapsing into the bed, scooting underneath the rumpled covers. In a few seconds, Lindsay was next to him, cuddling up to his side.

"How long were you at the door?" Lindsay asked, yawning.

"I came in when you said I looked like a penguin."

She chuckled. "A really good looking penguin. Who could really kiss."

"Oh, yeah?" Danny grinned, pulling her up higher so their heads were even. Lindsay's eyes flickered open just as he turned on his side and kissed her, opening her mouth slowly with his soft lips, cupping the side of her face with his hand. He pulled away with a soft breath. "How was that?"

"Good," she said hoarsely, watching his eyes soften and feeling the warmth of his arms. She smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

_Borrowing a character here: it's Kieran, from BEG75's Memories of Brooklyn and Views from Brooklyn. Thanks again, BEG!_

* * *

"A'right, kiddo, roll your finger on this – good job. Now lemme see it." Don took Jilly's finger and rolled it onto the fingerprinting sheet. "See? That's your fingerprint."

Jilly leaned forwards from Flack's lap and squinted at it. "It looks weird," she said, "Like a painting." She glanced down at her blackened fingertips and wiggled them.

"Don't touch your clothes," Flack said, and lifted her over to the girl's bathroom door. "Go ahead and wash your hands."

Jilly walked into the bathroom, opening the swinging door with her shoulder.

Flack leaned against the wall, waiting for her to come out.

"Uncle Don?" he heard from the bathroom.

"Yeah?"

"I can't reach the sink!" Jilly said back.

Flack started to step inside, then halted as Jessica Angell pushed past him, turning to look at him curiously as she opened the door.

"Do me a favor, Jess?" Flack asked.

Ten minutes later, Jessica emerged from the bathroom holding Jilly on her hip. "Next time, plan ahead," Jessica grumbled, handing her over to Flack. Jilly attempted to put her thumb in her mouth, but Flack tugged it away. Jilly looked up inquisitively.

"Don't suck your thumb for a little while, OK?" Flack suggested. He glanced around the precinct, wondering where the hell Lindsay was. Then again, it was good for him, he reasoned, to have practice, since he was still working on parenting himself, what with his son.

"Knock yourself out, kid; I'm gonna call your mother." He stood and picked up his cell phone from the desk. Flipping it open, he'd barely dialed Lindsay's number when the door to the precinct swept open and Lindsay rushed over to his desk.

"Sorry, Don," she said, hurriedly kissing his cheek, "I lost track of time. Hey, Jilly, you ready to go?"

Jilly smiled and showed Lindsay her picture, a stick figure drawing of a man standing on what looked to be a horse.

"What's … ? Never mind, explain it to me on the way home. C'mon, sweetie," she said, extending her hand. Jilly reached up and took it, waving goodbye to Flack.

"Bye, kiddo," Flack said, and tucked her fingerprint sheet into his desk drawer. He quickly stacked his case reports and picked up his jacket from the back of his chair. He walked out of the precinct as fast as he could and hopped into his car, wondering if he could pick up some coffee on the way.

* * *

A few years earlier, Don's ex-girlfriend, Paulina Wilde, had returned to New York with a five year old son. She'd left him after a two year relationship, nearly five years before. Don did some quick math and set up a DNA test. When the results had come back telling him he was a father, Don had nearly blown a gasket. He'd shouted and yelled at Paulina until she finally agreed to a custody settlement – two hours every other day and weekends could be spent with Don. A generous agreement, considering Don had illegally conducted the DNA test, breaking into her apartment and stealing the little boy's toothbrush.

Don knocked on her door anxiously, hoping she wouldn't mind that he was an hour early.

The door opened to a droopy eyed, naked-chested man in his late thirties. He wiped the back of his hand across his nose with one arm and squinted blearily at Don.

"'Chu want?" he asked.

"Carl," Don greeted Paulina's husband curtly, "How're things?" Don had picked up Carl for public intoxication nearly seven times since his and Paulina's return to New York.

"Kid's in his room," Carl grunted, and turned around.

"Don!" Paulina said brightly, stepping out from the back of the dark apartment. She wore rainbow-paint-splattered overalls and a button down, worn navy t-shirt. Her golden hair glowed in the dank apartment, her green eyes shone. "You're early," she said, smiling at him.

Don shrugged, trying desperately to ignore the skip in his heart every time he saw her. "Traffic was generous. Kieran around?"

"Yeah, come on in, he's in his room," Paulina smiled, ignoring the quick glare Carl gave her.

She led him back to Kieran's room, a tiny little room next to the kitchen. She opened the door and leaned in, unknowingly giving Flack a generous view of her ass. He grinned and was quickly confronted with the barely-suppressed urge to grab her, spin her around, and kiss her, with Carl's stupid, alcohol covered mouth hanging open at the sight of them.

"Kieran, sweetie, Daddy's here," Paulina said into the room.

The door quickly opened and Don was assaulted by a small, compact form. He swooped down and picked his son up, kissing him on the head.

"Daddy," Kieran said happily. He was his father's son, dark black hair, bright blue eyes. Except for the smattering of freckles across his nose, he might as well have been Don Flack, nearly three decades earlier. Flack took immense satisfaction in that Kieran was nothing like the grunting, potbellied sack of a husband Paulina had acquired.

After some quick hellos thrown back and forth between father and son, Flack turned to Paulina.

"So, I'll have him back around nine, that OK?" he asked hopefully.

"That's …" Paulina swallowed, "Don, that's an hour past his bedtime. And way more than two hours with him. It's only five now." She looked back and forth between the two of them, at Kieran's arms wrapped tightly around Flack's neck, and the thick dimple in her son's cheek, and finally gave a small smile. "OK. But just this once, got it?" she said.

"Thanks, Paulie," Flack smiled. He ruffled Kieran's hair. "You painting again?" he asked.

Paulina shrugged. "Sort of. You know I teach that art therapy class sometimes, near Battery Park?"

"Yeah."

"I started again. Earn a little extra cash. This one," she said, tugging teasingly on Kieran's ear, "isn't cheap," she smiled.

"I can –" Don started.

"Say nothing," Paulina said, laughing, "If you're going to say something about more child support, don't bother. You're paying plenty. Now go! You're wasting time." She shooed them out the door, leaning on the frame to watch them walk off.

"Bye, Mommy!" Kieran called as Flack set him on the floor.

* * *

"I really am sick," Jilly said, tears sparkling in her eyes. She clutched at her aching stomach, "I am, daddy," she whispered.

"Look, Jilly, sweetie, when you lie like this, it makes me and mommy sad because we don't trust you as much," Danny explained, kneeling before her on the sidewalk.

"I hafta throw up," Jilly said tearfully.

Danny adjusted her hat, patting her on the head. "Honey, as much as I wanna believe you, I know you're not telling the truth."

"But, Daddy," she moaned.

"No, Jilly. Look, if they're mean to you again, you talk to the teacher and you tell her what they did. And you can always tell me and mommy if you want – we'll talk to her for you."

Jilly opened her mouth to speak, but Danny held up his hand.

"And if someone tries to hurt you, then you kick them as hard as you can and tell a teacher. I promise you, JJ, you'll be fine. I'll walk you in the class, but I'm not gonna take you home."

Her lower lip trembling fiercely, Jilly reached up and took Danny's hand. Danny led her into the classroom and bent down again, kissing her forehead.

"I love you. It'll all be over at three. Mommy will be right there to pick you up, OK?" he asked.

Jilly sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. She nodded tearfully, her cheeks bright pink from what Danny presumed to be the cold.

After Danny left, Jilly walked over to her table, wincing as she took each step. She shared a long, bean-shaped table with four other kids. Each kindergartener had a little receptacle attached to the underside of the table. Jilly's had a secret little bar of chocolate sitting in the corner. Also stored in her desk were a small jar of glitter, a silver colored pencil, and a neon green baseball with her stick figure drawings adorning the spaces between the laces. She sat down on the plastic chair, her hand pressed to the sharp, fierce pain on her right side, just above her hip.

She suddenly became aware of a sensation on the top of her head and reached her hand up to find her hat gone. She looked quickly around to see Mitchell O'Brien dancing around the classroom, holding her hat above his head. "I got Crazy Jillian's hat! I got it, I got it!" he shouted, skipping between desks.

"Stop," Jilly said, scrunching her nose.

"Ha, ha, can't have it back," Mitchell said, waving it in front of her head. She reached out quickly and snatched it back.

"Hey!" Mitchell snapped, quickly growing angry.

"It's my hat, anyways," she remarked.

"Yeah, well you're a stupid, crazy –"

"Class, take your seats," Ms. Daniels said, waving her hand at the classroom. She pulled down the map above the chalkboard and pointed at the unlabeled section just below what Jilly knew to be France. "Can anyone tell me what this country is?" Ms. Daniels asked.

Jilly raised her hand. Ms. Daniels called on her. "That's Spain," Jilly said quickly.

"Good, Jillian," Ms. Daniels said, turning back to the board. She pulled up the map and started to write the word on the board.

Toby Kristeloff, Jilly's table partner, shoved her shoulder. "Know-it-all," he muttered to her.

Jilly winced, but mustered up the strength to shove him back. Hard. He nearly toppled off the seat.

"Is there a problem, Toby?" Ms. Daniels asked.

"No," he said, his ears quickly reddening.

Jilly smirked.

* * *

Danny glanced at the clock. Ten 'til two. Lindsay was getting off shift soon. He packaged up his evidence and headed over to their office. Lindsay was sitting on a chair, lazily spinning as she pondered why there would be traces of seal blubber on the instep of the shoe of a New York Stock Exchange trader.

"Hey, you," he said, sitting down at his own desk.

"Hey," she said, brightening, "Haven't seen you since this morning," she remarked.

Danny shrugged.

"Busy?" she asked.

"Yeah. Still wrapping up the high school case from last week," he explained.

"How was Jilly this morning?" Lindsay inquired, scooting her desk in further to the desk.

"Awful," Danny said, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. "She played sick for the third time this week. Said her stomach was killing her. We gotta do something about this teasing. She hates school."

Lindsay hesitated, about to pick up her pen. "There's … something I was thinking about. And I'm not sure it's such a good idea, but maybe it's better than this one and –"

"Spit it out," Danny smirked.

"What about private school?" Lindsay asked nervously, looking up at him.

Danny bit his lip, thinking it over. "Dunno," he said slowly, "can we even afford it? With the new kid and all?"

"I haven't checked," Lindsay admitted, "but I think it might be worth it. We could find one that fits her better than this public school does. Or what about Catholic school?"

"No way," Danny said vehemently.

"Why not?"

"Just no."

"You're Catholic."

"Yeah, so? She ain't goin' to no Catholic school."

"Do you have a better reason than that, or is that all you're going to give me?"

"Why do you care so much?" Danny asked, throwing the ball back into her court.

Lindsay shrugged. "She's having such a hard time. They push her around all the time –"

"They're pushing her? I didn't know they were actually hitting her," he said, scowling fiercely.

Lindsay frowned. "Well, yesterday she told me that you told her she could hit back," she scolded.

"Damn right she can. I'd hit those little punks myself if they were my size. Little bastards," he grunted, picking up a case file.

Lindsay sighed. "She shouldn't use violence, Danny, you know that. She can't think it's OK."

"What, so she can't defend herself?" Danny asked incredulously.

"I never said that. She just needs to tell a teacher."

Danny snorted dismissively and got up. "I'm gonna go work on the case. I'll talk to you later," he said, a bit more bitter than he'd intended.

* * *

The pain in her stomach had increased exponentially. Jilly could barely wobble out to the playground for recess. It was freezing anyways – the majority of the class was staying in the warm classroom, playing with the toys there.

Jilly stood shakily and walked to the shelves in back of the classroom, rifling for her favorite box of crayons, the one that still had the sparkly blue color. As she reached up higher, a knife was plunged into her side. She doubled over, clutching at the harsh sting.

"What's the matter, Crazy? Can't reach?" Toby sneered.

"Shut up, stupid," Jilly shot back, still holding the pain in her stomach.

"Don't _call _me that," Toby responded, shoving her forwards. He jammed his thumbs into her, nailing Jilly's pain right in the bullseye.

Unable to bear it any longer, Jilly collapsed, her vision spotty and dark, as she slammed her head on the side of the shelf and toppled to the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

_Poem is by Shel Silverstien. Not me, obviously. And to all readers out there, I advise you to pick up a book of his. They're oddly insightful._

_On other note, thanks to war123 for some ideas on this chapter :)_

* * *

"Pass him on the left – there – Watch the truck! – can't you hurry?"

"Montana," Danny growled, gritting his teeth, "I'm goin' fast as I can." He sped ahead of the cars in front of him, lights flashing, siren blaring, hands gripping the steering wheel. Lindsay's hands were wrapped around the door handle, prepared to leave the car as quickly as she could.

Danny screeched to a stop in front of the school, and Lindsay was out of the car before he could put the it in park.

He jogged into the school after her, heading to where she turned sharply into the nurse's office on the right. He stepped into the small, white room and saw Jilly, pale, holding her arm awkwardly, her other arm pressed to her stomach.

Lindsay was already at her side, smoothing her hair and promising her that she would be all right.

"Daddy," Jilly said weakly. Danny touched her face softly and turned to the nurse standing next to the cot on which Jilly sat.

"What happened?" he asked quickly.

"She fainted in class," responded the stout, stern woman with a large mole sitting neatly on her chin.

Jilly sniffed and turned her face to Lindsay's side.

"And?" Danny asked, his voice agitated.

"She woke up shortly afterwards, crying, telling us her stomach and her arm hurt. We thought she might be lying, but we called the two of you," the nurse explained.

"Does she look like she's lying?" Lindsay snapped, looking up from Jilly.

"Do you mind?" Danny asked the nurse bitterly, nodding at the door. The nurse left, closing the door behind her.

"What happened, JJ?" Danny asked, his tone suddenly soft. He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Toby pushed me," she said, her nose running, "and my stomach really hurts," she whimpered.

"And your arm? Did you fall on it?" Lindsay asked. She felt Jilly's forehead with one hand, noting that it was burning hot.

Jilly nodded.

"Where does your stomach hurt, baby?" Danny asked soothingly.

Jilly pointed to the region on her right side, just above her hip. Danny lifted her shirt carefully, inspecting the skin in case it was a bruise of some sort. He noticed nothing significant, and carefully let her shirt down. Jilly whimpered.

"OK," Danny said, thinking. He stood and ran his hand over his face. "We gotta get her to the hospital," he muttered to Lindsay. She nodded and stood up, lifting up Jilly's jacket and slinging her backpack onto her back.

"C'mere, sweetheart," Danny said. He carefully lifted Jilly into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She winced at the change in position, then relaxed, resting her hot cheek on Danny's shoulder.

Lindsay hurried ahead of the two of them, telling the nurse that they were heading to the hospital and asking for a thermometer. Danny carefully set Jilly in the back seat. He brought her seat belt over her body. Jilly cried out in pain as it touched the tender section of her tummy.

"Daddy, that hurts," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry," he soothed, "But you gotta wear the seat belt, JJ."

Lindsay tapped him on the shoulder. "Just drive, Danny, I'll sit back here with her."

He nodded and headed over to the driver's side. Lindsay crawled into the back seat and carefully set Jilly into her carseat. She worked the straps of the booster seat around Jilly's stomach as Danny started the car and set off, siren loud and commanding, towards the nearest hospital.

* * *

Danny paced the floor, his footsteps echoing through the hallway. He checked his watch, then the clock on the wall. With some minor calculations, he decided that Lindsay and Jilly had been in the x-ray room for over half an hour.

The moment he decided to finally sit down on a chair, Lindsay came into the room. He jumped to his feet.

"What's wrong with her?" Danny asked hurriedly.

"Her appendix. They think it ruptured. And her arm is probably fractured," Lindsay responded, running her hand through her hair.

"It ruptured? As in, exploded?" Danny asked in shock.

"Yes, Danny, exploded," Lindsay snapped.

"I didn't believe her," Danny whispered to himself. He turned to the wall and slammed his hand into it. "I didn't fucking believe her."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Danny, don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't have either."

Danny ignored her. "She's my daughter, I should've protected her. I should've believed her," he hissed. He banged his fist against the wall again, leaning his forehead on the cold white surface.

"Oh for God's sake, will you stop?" Lindsay shouted.

Danny turned around, his eyes wild and surprised.

"It happened; deal with it. There's nothing we can do now. There's nothing," her face fell, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "There's nothing …" she gasped and sat down, covering her mouth with one hand.

A doctor stepped out of Jilly's room. Danny and Lindsay looked up at him expectantly.

"We'll need to operate immediately," he explained, "We're going to take her to pre-op now. Afterwards, she'll need to stay at the hospital for a few days. She'll need to be on antibiotics for a while after that, until the bacteria clears up."

Danny ran his hand over his face. "And how long will that take?" he asked.

The doctor shrugged. "That depends. I'll be able to tell you more after the surgery."

"I can't believe I didn't believe her," Danny whispered again.

"Mr. Messer, this is a common problem. Parents often don't recognize it. You have nothing to feel sorry about," the doctor said calmly. He gave Danny a small smile. "She'll be up and about in no time."

"Thank you," Lindsay said.

"Would one of you like to be with her while we anesthetize her?" The doctor asked.

Lindsay and Danny looked at each other. "I'll do it," they said simultaneously. Danny bit his lip and motioned with his hand towards the room, indicating that Lindsay could go if she wished.

"We'll do it the old fashioned way," Lindsay said lightly, standing and holding out a fist, "Rock, paper, scissors."

Danny gave a small grin and held out his hand. He had paper. Lindsay had rock.

"You won fair and square," Lindsay smiled.

Danny gave a thankful grin and headed into Jilly's room with the doctor.

"Hey, baby," he said softly, heading towards her bed. There were a few other children in the room, some coughing, some sleeping. Jilly was tiny, lost amidst the sheets of her bed. She was wearing a hospital gown. Her cheeks were wet and a bright red. Danny carefully rested the back of his hand on her hot little cheek.

"How're you feeling, JJ?" he asked.

"My tummy really hurts, Daddy" Jilly whimpered, another tear slipping out of her eye.

"I know, Jilly, but it's gonna be fine in a little while. Dr. Whitman is going to take you to another room and he's going to explain what's going to happen, and then you're going to go to sleep, and when you wake up, boom – you'll be fine."

Jilly smiled weakly, then frowned. "I don't want to," she whispered.

"Don't want to what, get better?" Danny asked, pulling up a chair and scooting it further in towards her bed.

"I don't want to go to sleep. What if I have the dream again?" she asked timidly.

"You won't," Danny swore, "It'll just be a short sleep. You'll barely know what hit 'cha. Ten seconds. Before you know it, you'll be back at school, honey."

Jilly gave a hiccup of a sob, shaking her head. "I don't want to go back to school. Ever," she cried.

Danny reached up and stroked her hair, glancing behind him as two doctors came up on either side of Jilly to prepare her for the surgery. "Don't think about that, then. When we're done, you, me, and mommy are gonna talk about it, and we'll see what we can do," he promised.

She nodded, her lower lip pouting.

* * *

Danny's eyes blinked open. He shifted from his uncomfortable position on the hard, uncomfortable seat, glancing down at Lindsay's head on his lap. She was stretched out along the two chairs to his left, her warm head resting on his legs. He sighed and glanced at the clock. Jilly had been in surgery for almost an hour. Danny reached down and stroked Lindsay's subtle curls, tucking them behind her ear. He shifted forwards and, with some struggling, unzipped his jacket and took it off. He shook it over Lindsay's body, tucking it into her sides. She murmured something intelligible and turned her face towards his knees. Danny grinned and rested his hand on the curve of her hip.

He glanced across the room at the row of chairs facing the two of them. A short, portly man sat directly across from them, one foot in a cast, holding a magazine. Danny focused on the picture on the wall next to the man. In his peripheral vision, he noticed that the magazine lowered slightly, and the man's beady little eyes peered directly across from him, boring right into Danny's lap.

At first, Danny didn't understand – _is he seriously staring at my package? _– he thought incredulously. Suddenly, it came to him. His eyes flicked down to Lindsay. Despite the jacket, her arm dripped off the chair onto the floor, her fingertips grazing the ground, and revealing her low-cut shirt. Her naked chest was nearly visible, and pointing directly at the portly little man across the room.

Quickly, with awkward attempts to act natural, Danny shifted his jacket up further along Lindsay's body, pulling it up under her chin.

"Whaddre you doin?" Lindsay mumbled sleepily, never opening her eyes. She shivered lightly, and the jacket slipped off her body onto the floor. Danny caught it just as it touched the ground, then pulled it back up and tucked it tightly around Lindsay's sleeping form, covering her completely.

As he 'discreetly' stared back at the picture on the wall, he noticed again that the portly man was looking at Lindsay – though this time, at something slightly further down Lindsay's body.

Barely moving his torso, Danny glanced over to the rest of Lindsay's body. His eyes widened at the thick strip of skin above her low cut jeans. First of all, the edge of her lacy pink panties peeked ever so slightly from the top of the jeans. Then there was an expanse of skin, ending just above her belly button with her t-shirt.

_Shit, _Danny thought, _How the hell do I fix that?_

Slowly, carefully, he stretched dramatically, shifting a leg out in front of him and dropping one side of Lindsay's pillow down. Her head dropped nearly between his legs. She caught herself and blinked awake, looking around her with bleary eyes.

"Oh, sorry, baby," Danny muttered, his voice soft and sugary, "did I wake you?"

"Wassappening? Is she out of surgery?" Lindsay asked, her voice coated in sleep.

Danny shook his head, applying a light pressure to her left hip, pressing her into his body. "Go back to sleep, honey," he suggested, pulling her head to the crook of his neck with one arm while he slid her butt closer. With the hand on her hip, he carefully, discretely tugged her shirt down to meet her jeans.

"OK," Lindsay murmured, burying her head in his neck.

Danny kissed her neck, cracking one eye to glance at the man across from them as he slid one arm behind Lindsay and another around her front. He adjusted his jacket over her once again, blocking her body.

_Ha, _he thought victoriously.

"Mr. and Mrs. Messer?" The doctor asked formally, stepping into the waiting room and snapping off his gloves. He dumped them in the toxic waste trash can and walked over to Danny and Lindsay. Danny helped Lindsay up and nodded.

"Yeah?" Danny asked.

"Your daughter is in post-op now. She'll be waking up from the anesthesia in an hour or so. If she experiences any nausea, chills, or shakiness, then it's a completely normal reaction. We're going to monitor here for a few more days, but I can tell you that the damage was minimal. She should be up and about in no more than a few days."

"Thank god," Lindsay breathed.

"You can go in to see her now," the doctor said, "but let her have her rest."

"You were right," Lindsay said shakily as they walked into Jilly's room.

Danny took a seat next to Jilly's bed, smoothing her golden curls back from her face and kissing her forehead. "'Bout what?" he whispered.

"About the teasing," Lindsay said, trailing her fingers along the palm of Jilly's little hand. She pulled the covers up higher, tucking her daughter into the bed. "If she'dve listened to you about fighting back –"

"Don't say that," Danny whispered back, pulling Lindsay onto his lap. He kissed her neck softly. "Whatever happened happened, and it's nobody's fault. No one was right."

"Hmm," Lindsay said quietly. "Well, I'll look around at different schools in Manhattan."

"I already called around," Danny said, hugging her waist, "Flack says he can use his address, get her into the one his son goes to."

"Is that legal?" she asked tentatively.

"Who gives a shit? It gets her out of the hellhole she's in now. Plus, Flack's son doesn't even live with him, but Flack's near some great school district, so he lies to get his son in, too."

"Things we do for our kids," Lindsay giggled.

"I don't care how much I gotta do to get her safe," Danny remarked, more to himself than anyone else. He reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. He marveled how little her hand was, for nearly the millionth time since she was born.

Lindsay leaned her head into his shoulder, tilting it to watch Jilly silently. "Me neither," she said, watching Jilly's tummy move in and out with her steady, regulated breathing. She placed her hand on her stomach carefully, thinking about the second addition to their family. Danny laced his fingers with hers and kissed her head as the two watched Jilly sleep.

* * *

Two days later, Danny sat with Jilly in his lap. She was lying between his legs, her back in his chest, a thermometer in her mouth, and _Where the Sidewalk Ends _in her hands.

"_There is a place where the sidewalk ends_

_And before the street begins,_

_And there the grass grows soft and white,_

_And there the sun burns crimson bright,_

_And there the moon-bird rests from his flight_

_To cool in the peppermint wind._

_Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black_

_And the dark street winds and bends._

_Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow_

_We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,_

_And watch where the chalk-white arrows go_

_To the place where the sidewalk ends._

_Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,_

_And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,_

_For the children, they mark, and the children, they know_

_The place where the sidewalk ends."_

Danny read the poem in a slow, even voice as the nurse at Jilly's bedside carefully checked her temperature, her stitches, and her bandages. Jilly winced lightly but didn't move, mesmerized by Danny's voice. Jilly turned the page to the next poem, but looked up afterwards to see the nurse pulling the thermometer out of her mouth.

She craned her neck to read it, but instead Danny and the nurse were the only ones able to do so.

The nurse sighed. "Still above normal. Nearly a hundred and two."

"What does that mean?" Danny asked quietly.

"It means she may have to stay here longer," the nurse said, patting the side of Jilly's cheek lightly. "Sorry, honey."

Jilly shrugged and leaned back onto Danny's chest.

"Read another one?" she asked in her low, bubbly voice, "Please, Daddy?"

"Sure," Danny said, adjusting her pajama top to cover the thin stitches of her surgical scar.

Jilly stuck her thumb in her mouth and let her eyelids slip down. Danny brushed her hair away from her hot little forehead and searched for another poem in the book.

* * *

"You can take her home now. It seems she's contacted the flu, which accounts for her fever. It's not the bacteria released when her appendix ruptured," the doctor informed Lindsay. Lindsay smiled happily.

"Monitor her temperature, and make sure she comes goes in for a check up soon. I'll have your pediatrician call you with a date, all right, Mrs. Messer?" the doctor asked.

"Thank you so much," Lindsay gushed, and headed into Jilly's room. Jilly and Danny had long since fallen asleep on the hospital cot. Lindsay had been putting in extra hours at work, preparing for the time she would need to take off for the baby.

"Danny," she hissed.

"Mmph," Danny mumbled back.

"We can take her home," Lindsay said happily.

Danny's eyes blinked open. "Finally," he muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

_A little early, but whatever: for war123. Hope you feel better : )_

* * *

Danny came home to a silent house. The quiet unsettled him, as did the lack of lights. He set his keys and badge on the kitchen counter and called out, "Jilly, Lindsay?" He glanced over at the sink, noting the lack of glasses and plates. They hadn't eaten dinner yet, and, considering it was past nine, something was up.

Hearing no response, he set off into the living room. Lindsay was lying on the couch, Jilly in her arms, both wrapped in a thick quilt. He smiled at the sight and walked over to them. He touched Jilly's head first, pressing his palm against her forehead to see if the fever seemed to be going down. He snagged the thermometer off the coffee table and placed it in her mouth, watching it rise to 100 degrees.

_Down two, _he thought happily, and kissed the top of her head. Then he moved on to Lindsay, noticing that, though her skin was pale, her cheeks were pink, her lips cracked and dry. He felt her forehead and noticed, alarmingly, that it was hotter than Jilly's. He washed off the thermometer in the kitchen, and headed back into the living room. He carefully placed the thermometer in Lindsay's mouth.

His eyes widened as he read the glowing, red numbers. One hundred and four degrees. He frowned and placed the thermometer down on the coffee table again. He stood up, picked up the phone, and dialed her doctor.

* * *

Lindsay woke up to a light nudging just under her shoulders. She opened her eyes, coming face to face with Danny.

"What are you doing?" she asked lazily, glancing down at his arms. He shushed her softly and slid his hands all the way under her body before lifting her up. She laughed sleepily and leaned on his shoulder. "I can walk," she murmured.

"You're sick," Danny accused.

"What?" Lindsay asked, opening her eyes slowly as he put her down on their bed.

"You're sick. You've got a fever."

"Hmm," Lindsay said, nuzzling into the covers. She yawned.

"Lindsay, this is serious. It could be bad for the baby."

"How?" Lindsay asked. She struggled to sit up onto her elbows. She was definitely awake now.

"Drink this," Danny said, handing her a water bottle he'd pulled from the fridge moments before carrying her.

Lindsay did so, watching him intently. She attempted to place the water back on the bedside table.

Danny shook his head. "More. And then I'm gonna go grab some dinner at Eli's. Ribs sound OK?"

"Danny, what do you mean bad?" Lindsay asked worriedly, sitting up all the way and taking another long sip of the water.

"Doctor says the baby could get hurt," Danny grunted, "Sick, I mean. You just gotta get well quick and drink a lot of fluids. I think Jilly gave you what she had."

"Danny, will the baby be OK?" Lindsay asked, her eyes pleading.

Danny smoothed her hair gently and kissed her softly on the lips. "We'll get you checked out and then we'll know for sure. If you get well soon, I'm sure you and the baby will be fine."

Lindsay nodded and let him help her back onto the pillows. He fluffed them up and bent down to kiss her once again. She wiggled away from him. "You'll get sick, too," she explained.

"Don't care," he said, tugging her towards him and giving her a long, sweet kiss.

* * *

Danny showed up at work completely haggard and exhausted. He was sleeping on his desk, face buried in his arms, when Flack came to get him out to a scene.

"Yo, Danno," Flack called.

Danny didn't move.

Flack came up behind him and smacked him with a rolled up file.

"More tea," Danny grunted as he sat up. He blinked, clearing the blurriness from his eyes and adjusting to his glasses. "Wassappening?" he asked.

Flack bit back his laughter. "Man, you're beat," he remarked.

Danny turned and saw his friend, then slowly, achingly got up from his chair, stretching leisurely and grabbing his coat. "Both the girls are sick," he explained, "I've been playing nurse to the two of 'em."

"Got a little outfit? Little white skirt?" Flack grinned.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Danny snorted and yawned. "What we got?"

"Scene out in the park – woman keeled over next to Strawberry Fields." He snagged Danny's kit and handed it to him. They walked out to the car, Danny checking his phone every few minutes.

"What, you expectin' a call?" Flack asked.

"Yep. You know the little jerk that pushed Jilly?"

"Toby character?"

"Yeah. I called the school, asked 'em to suspend him. Or expel him. Somethin'."

"Did they?" Flack asked, opening the door to his car and sliding inside.

Danny hopped into the passenger's seat and shut his door. "No idea. They're gonna call me after they talk to his mother, work out a punishment. I'm hoping for an expulsion, personally," Danny commented.

"Little harsh for a five-year-old, isn't it?" Flack asked, putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the street.

"I don't give a shit," Danny said calmly, "He hurt her pretty bad."

"She gettin' better, by the way?"

"Fever's down a little," Danny said, grinning, "And her doctor says she's lookin' up. She can go to school in a couple days."

"She's going to Kieran's school, isn't she?" Flack asked, "'Cause I picked up some forms and started filling 'em out for you."

"Thanks," Danny said appreciatively.

"I got 'em at my desk at the station. I'll run 'em over for you later. We can work out some way to get the two of them home and back if you want, too, when Paulie lets me pick K up."

"That'd be great, Don, thanks," Danny said as the car pulled up to the park. "What've we got?" he asked as they stepped out of the car.

"According to the first officer at the scene, this here," he said, gesturing at the half-naked body of a brunette lying next to a bush, "is Evelyn Watson, 33. She's been missing for three days, she's got a husband in Brooklyn – Marcus Watson."

Danny crouched next to the victim and snapped a picture of the cigarette burns adorning Evelyn's arm. They trailed up her bare arm in a brutally neat line, right up to the bend of her inner elbow. "She was tortured," Danny remarked.

Evelyn was wearing nothing but a bra and panties. Danny shivered in sympathy, glancing up at the dark, stormy sky. "It's about 25, 30 degrees out, right Flack?" he asked.

"Yeah, sounds about right," Don responded.

"So where are her clothes? And how long's she been out of 'em?" Danny asked, taking a picture of the bloody soles of Evelyn's feet.

"Mild frostbite on her toes," Hawkes said, walking up to the scene, "And her hair was still damp when I got here about ten minutes ago. I'd say she's been under some sort of water; I took samples to see if we can match it to somewhere. Hopefully she wasn't submerged for too long; Otherwise it might've washed away evidence of rape."

"Jesus," Danny muttered, looking down at Evelyn's beaten body, "She went through a lot. How'd she go missing? Ransom note, any of that?"

Flack shook his head. "Husband got pictures, though – one each day of Evelyn holding the NY Times. Only got a shot of the head, though – if she was tortured, the pictures didn't show it."

Danny squinted at the weak, stubbly grass surrounding Evelyn's body as something glittered its way back up to him. "Got something here," he said, and pulled out his tweezers from his kit. He snapped a picture of the object, then plucked it from the ground.

"What is it?" Hawkes asked.

"Some kinda green glass," Danny said, "Pretty weird. It's thin, too – not from a window or a beer bottle." He bagged it and put it in his kit.

* * *

Danny and Sheldon jogged their way down to the morgue.

"Sid!" Sheldon called, "Watcha got for us?"

Sid popped up from his crouching position alongside the body of Evelyn Watson. He pulled the sheet up to her shoulders. "Hello, there," he said cheerfully.

"So, what can you tell us?" Danny asked.

"Well, there was almost no food in her stomach; she hadn't eaten anything for at least three days. She was killed by a blow to the back of her head," Sid said, tilting Evelyn's head, "Right at the nape of the neck – there. The bruising is starting to form now. She died about four, five hours ago, I'd say."

"So, not long before she was found?" Sheldon asked, inspecting a small scrape under Evelyn's collarbone.

"Not much … Ah, I see you've noticed the scrape," Sid commented, "I found a particularly interesting bruise there –" he outlined the shape with his pinkie finger, "Can you see?"

Danny leaned in and squinted at the bruise. "Is that … a cross?"

"You got it," Sid said happily. "Also interesting are the bloody scrapes on her feet – I believe they were made by tacks – many tiny puncture wounds all along the sole of her foot."

"Someone made her walk on tacks?" Danny asked incredulously.

"Yes, I believe so. Whoever it was also beat her mercilessly – stomach shows intense bruising. I don't think she could even stand up straight. She was raped, Sheldon was correct. I collected a sample and sent it to DNA."

"That it?" Danny asked, perturbed by the extent of the torture.

"Well, cigarette burns are about two days old, bruising is about a day old, and the tacks are sometime early this morning. Also, I found water in her lungs. She was definitely held underwater for some amount of time. Strange thing is, she was dehydrated, _then_ held under water. But other than that, no, nothing else."

"My God," Sheldon said, looking sadly at her body. "Three days of torture."

* * *

"How's the invalid?" Danny joked, climbing on the bed to a sick Lindsay. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, her nose bright red, her face feverish.

"Sick," she mumbled back through a stuffed nose, "I hab a stubid, stubid cold now. And I'b freezing. And too tired to close the window." She pouted and looked at him pleadingly.

Danny chuckled and crawled back off the bed. He carefully closed the half-open window that she'd asked him to open that morning, proclaiming the apartment 'too stuffy.' He checked the thermostat, inching it up a few degrees, then walked back over to her and felt her forehead.

"Still got that fever?" he asked.

She nodded and leaned into his cool hand. "A hun'red," she muttered.

"Poor baby," he said, and scooted her over so he could lie on the bed with her. He shoved away the tissue box and the in-case-of-emergency vomit bucket and a thick stack of shiny glamour magazines he'd picked up for her. He kissed her forehead and tucked her into his side. "Want some tea?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I'b tired," she repeated.

"I know," he sympathized, smoothing her hair.

"Will you itch by foot?" she asked sleepily.

Danny held in his laugh and sat up. He reached under the covers to her foot and scratched the arch. "Here?" he asked.

"The heel," she muttered back.

He moved his hand a little further towards her heel and scratched it gently.

"Harder," she murmured, "Yeah, that's it. Oh, god that feels good." She sighed, satisfied and opened her eyes to find Danny openly laughing at her. "What?" she asked tiredly.

"Nothin'," he laughed.

She picked up his pillow and lazily beaned him in the face with it. "You hab a dirty bind," she grumbled, turning her face into the pillow under her head.

Danny climbed on top of her, crushing her side, and gave a wet, sloppy kiss to her neck. "Couldn't resist," he explained, tucking his arms around her.

"You're crush-ig be, stubid," she said, her voice entirely muffled by the pillow and her stuffed nose. Danny had to translate her sentences into English to understand her.

"Well, you knocked me in the face with a pillow. With all your sick germs on it, no less." He kissed her neck again, and pushed himself up on his forearms so she could roll under him to face him. He brushed her hair from her face and kissed her softly.

She turned her head away. "You'll get sick," she explained.

He pressed his hand to one side of her face and turned her head to his. "Don't care," he said, kissing her again.

After a few seconds, Lindsay pushed him away. "I can't breathe through by nose," she said, "I need by bouth for breath-ig," she said.

"I'll work around that, then," Danny said, bending down to kiss her neck.

"How was work," Lindsay asked.

Danny looked up from what he'd been doing. "Mood killer, Montana."

"I dob't want you to get sick," Lindsay explained.

Danny sighed and rolled onto his back. "Awful. Some girl was tortured, killed, and dumped in the park."

"Sorry," Lindsay said, cuddling into his side.

He chuckled. "What, no kissing, but you want to cuddle?" he mocked.

"Yes," she said stubbornly, "And I'b nauseated, so if I hab to throw ub, you hab to carry be into the bathroom."

"You gonna throw up?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head. "I just feel awful," she muttered, closing her eyes tightly.

"Anything I can do?" he asked.

She took his hand and put it onto her stomach, sliding it under her shirt. She shivered at the cold air that clung to his hand when he'd come in from outside. "Cold feels good," she said.

"OK," he smiled into her hair, and started to slowly rub her stomach.

"'S good," she said, smiling tiredly. She yawned and rested one hand on his chest as she buried her head into his shoulder. Danny kicked off his shoes and continued to rub her stomach.

"Is Jilly in bed?" he asked quietly, his voice only a low, melodic rumble to her ears.

"Mm-hmm," Lindsay hummed, slipping into sleep.

"She put up a fight?" he asked, bringing his free hand up to hold her in tighter.

"We had to walk Elvis before she would go to bed," Lindsay breathed.

"Honey, Elvis is a fish," Danny said gently, "He doesn't have to be walked."

Lindsay lightly lifted one shoulder. "He likes to look at the city," she explained.

"Well, I don't want you two out late at night when it's dark. Especially if it's freezing, and you're both sick," Danny said. He was slightly more aggravated about the matter than he'd care to admit. He couldn't deny, though, that the image of Jilly trudging down the sidewalk with a large, glass fish bowl in her arms was mildly comical. He chuckled gently.

"She's a pretty weird little kid, isn't she?" he asked, amazed, as he stared up at the ceiling. Receiving no response, he glanced back down at Lindsay. "Montana?"

Noticing that she was no longer awake, Danny carefully slid the blankets out from underneath himself and pulled them on top of the two of them. He kissed Lindsay's head and closed his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

When Kieran walked into his classroom, he was already angry. He had left his snow boots at home, and his converse were completely wet. His mother had informed him that she was going to be working late again, and Carl was going to pick him up. Kieran knew what that meant – Carl would be late, pissy, and would have a headache.

Kieran slumped down in his seat and dropped his backpack next to his chair. He clipped off his hat and jammed it into the front pocket of his backpack. The class was still filling up with students, so Kieran got up so he could get the good ruler for the art class. He went up to the front desk, but something sparkly caught his eye. He turned to see bright red snow boots, outlined with sequins. He followed the boots up to see cherry-print tights, to a denim skirt, to a navy blue jacket with light silver glitter staining the bottom of the pocket. Then he saw her face – round and glowing as Jillian Messer stared glumly at the class pet, a downtrodden turtle. She was leaning on her elbows on the table in front of her, on her tiptoes.

Her eyes followed her line of sight to the turtle, named General Grant. The turtle was on a rock, looking sadly at the glass of his tank. Jilly trailed a finger down the glass, outlining the shape of General Grant. Suddenly, as Kieran watched, she unhooked the top of the cage, lifted the General out, and placed him on the table top. She rolled up her sleeves and started to pat General Grant's wrinkly little head as he slowly made his way to the stack of books at the end of the table.

Jilly whispered something to the class prisoner, then carefully placed him back in his cage and re-hooked the top. Turning away from the tank, she gave a small wave to the little turtle, and headed back to the front of the class. Kieran noticed that she favored her right side, and she was careful to maneuver herself around the edges of desks. She sat gingerly in a seat with a temporary, paper sign stating her name.

She was in the seat right in front of him. He walked over to her.

Jilly looked up at the person standing in front of her, the cute little freckled nose, the bright blue eyes.

"Why'd you put him back?" Kieran asked.

"It's winter," Jilly explained, "When it's summer time, I'll take him to the lake."

"Is that what you told him?" Kieran asked.

"Uh-huh."

"What's wrong with your stomach? You keep touching it."

"I had to get a surgery there. But I'm OK now," she said, smiling brightly. Kieran noticed all her little white teeth and grinned back, his dimple popping up.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked.

"Sorta. My daddy says I hafta be careful and not do anything crazy until it's all better. He says if anyone makes me move fast then I hafta kick them or yell at them."

Kieran laughed. "Really?" he asked.

"Uh huh."

"My daddy says I'm not allowed to yell at people or kick them. He says it makes them mad and that's not good," Kieran explained, "But he says that if I really, really, have to hurt them I can if it's for a good reason."

"What kind of reason?" Jilly asked.

Kieran shrugged. "He didn't tell me. He said I'd figure it out."

"What's your name?" Jilly asked, resting her head on her hands.

"Kieran. What's yours?"

"Jillian. But everybody calls me Jilly," she said, and smiled widely.

* * *

On the playground at recess, Jilly sat down on the steps of the building and burrowed her chin into her coat. The majority of the class had arranged into teams and started building snow forts for a snowball fight. Her mommy and daddy had told her that under no terms would she go running around more than necessary. Not that she could argue: she was too nauseated to disagree.

"Your tights are weird," a sneering, cold voice behind her said. She turned carefully on the step to see two little boys, one with his nose turned up in disgust. They were taller than she, and she thought they might be in the first grade. They weren't in her classroom.

Jilly glanced down at her red and white cherry tights, her favorite pair.

"I like them," she retorted, and turned away to face forwards.

"Well I think they're stupid," one of the boys said, "Just like your hat."

"It's my favorite," she said back, reaching one hand to touch the lime green knit material.

Before her hand could touch it, it was snatched off her head. She immediately felt the tears come. It was just like the other school – people mocking her, no friends, sitting on the cold, lonely steps all recess –

"Give it back, Ryan," Kieran said firmly, standing in front of her. His hands were shoved into his pockets.

"What?" the taunting boy, Ryan, asked, "This?" he sneered, waving the hat in the air.

"That's the one," Kieran said, mimicking his father's harsh tone, "Now give it back."

Ryan stared at Kieran. "What'cha gonna do about it if I don't?"

"I'll fight you," Kieran said easily, as though it were the simplest solution in the world.

Jilly stood up and faced her tormentors. "Don't fight. It's not right," she directed at the two of them, then turning to Kieran. She turned back to the teasing boys. "Can I have my hat back, please?" she asked.

The head boy shoved her. She stumbled down the steps, but remained standing. She winced as the stitches pulled slightly.

Before she could straighten herself, Kieran was a flash of black jacket, hurling himself at the boy. She blinked, and Kieran was on top of the boy, pummeling him despite the age difference. Ryan was stocky and tall, but Kieran definitely had him on speed. The kid was a lightning bolt. Through the entire fight, Ryan got only one punch to the side of Kieran's face.

Jilly gaped at it for a moment, then took a breath and stepped forwards. "Stop," she said loudly.

Kieran sat up in surprise, straddling the now-bleeding Ryan. His tiny fists were paused, balled up inches from Ryan's face. "Stop?"

"Fighting isn't good," Jilly explained, "You're not supposed to do it unless you get hit first."

"But you _did _get hit," Kieran pointed out, "And my daddy says you're not supposed to move around a lot. So if you can't hit back, then I can do it for you. If you want," he added quickly.

Jilly shrugged. "I guess." She scrunched up her nose. "But I think that's enough. He only pushed me."

Kieran got off Ryan, who whimpered and turned onto his side. He walked calmly over to Jilly and smiled at her. "Do you want to play soccer with me?" he asked.

Like many women before her, Jilly was taken by the Flack grin. It was an infectious sort of grin – she couldn't help but giggle and smile back. "I can't play soccer," she said.

Kieran's brow furrowed as he pondered the situation.

"How about we build a snow castle?" Jilly suggested.

"OK," Kieran grinned.

* * *

"Hey, Flack, wait up," Danny called down the hallway. Flack turned around and grinned brightly at his friend.

"Hey, Danno, what's up?" he asked happily. His smile quickly faded when he saw Danny's perturbed face.

"You remember that murder case we had a few years back? Right around when Lindsay was bein' stalked by that Greg guy? It was a little girl – Yolanda Navarro."

"Yeah, sure." Flack said, taking the file Danny handed him.

"The guy we fingered for it? He's out."

"Calvin Potts?" Flack asked in disbelief. He checked over the papers Danny handed him and shook his head a few times. "No, no, this isn't right. We nailed him. We had everything …"

"I know," Danny said, "But he appealed the decision. Says he wasn't given a fair trial 'cause the judge was Yolanda's third cousin once removed or something. There was a retrial, and he won. He was released last Friday."

"Why weren't we called to the stand?" Flack asked angrily, "We had a solid case, Danny."

"Yeah, well, I mighta fucked that up," Danny admitted, "Remember how I got a little rough with him? Thought he was the one following Lindsay?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the prosecutor thought that might not look so good."

"Huh," Flack agreed.

"So he's out now, living in the city. Living in Paulina's building."

"What," Flack said dully, staring at Danny. "He … but we're OK, right? He likes girls, not … but not that that makes it any better. Still, Kieran's safe. Right? Say I'm right."

"Yeah, Potts likes girls," Danny said. He gritted his teeth and thought back to what Calvin had said to him a few years ago. _What a beauty. She's a little too young, though, we'll have to wait a few –_

Calvin hadn't finished the sentence. Instead, Danny had tackled him across the table. The hairs on the back of Danny's neck stood up every time he remembered those words. The very thought of Calvin within a mile of his daughter scared him more than he could say.

"Still," Danny continued, "He was arrested for a few instances of sexual harassment against grown women. Guy doesn't know his boundaries. So tell Paulina to watch out."

"Yeah," Flack mumbled, lost in the file, "I'll do that."

"Oh, and Mac's sending us out to a scene – woman in the park."

"Again?" Flack asked incredulously, "Same MO, per chance?"

"Yeah. Another woman, facedown, mid-thirties, brunette. Severe torture, in her underclothes."

"So we got a serial," Flack concluded.

"Mac thinks so. He's lettin' the FBI know, but we'll help 'em out. This is the second in New York, but the MO matches an out-of-state case: a woman was killed in Maine. She fits the profile."

"Same torture, every time?"

"Yep. Puncture wounds on the bottoms of their feet, water in the lungs, bruises, cigarette burns, a picture to the family every day she's missing."

"Same COD?"

"Blow to the back 'a the head."

Flack rubbed his hand over his face. "Bastard," he muttered, "That's pretty brutal."

* * *

Don walked to the end of the hall on Paulina's floor, heading towards her apartment. He knocked on the door quietly.

The door opened, and Flack looked down to see Kieran standing there looking up at him with a dark bruise on his cheek.

"Jesus," Flack muttered, and kneeled down before his son. A spark ignited in the pit of his stomach, setting aflame a steadily growing anger. "Kieran, what happened to your cheek? And don't lie to me."

Kieran looked at Flack, his eyes bright. "I did what you said," he explained, "I _had_ to fight."

"What?" Flack asked, anger quickly replaced with confusion.

"One of the boys pushed my friend and she fell, so I hit him back," Kieran said simply.

Flack opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he spoke. "Are you sure that's how it happened?" he asked, looking Kieran straight in the eyes.

Kieran nodded vigorously. "Jilly says she's not supposed to move around a lot, but Ryan was going to hit her again, so I fought him for her. She said she can do it herself when she can move around again." Kieran finished. He smiled at his dad. Upon registering Flack's confused expression, though, he frowned. "Was that bad, daddy?" he asked.

"In this case, no," Flack said slowly, wondering if it was the same Jilly he was thinking of, "But usually, no fighting. It's not good, OK?"

"OK," Kieran grinned.

Flack stood and tousled Kieran's hair. "Your mom around? We got to talk about something."

Kieran nodded and took Flack's hand, leading him into the apartment. He took him into the kitchen, where Paulina was humming to herself, stirring a cinnamon-scented batter.

"Hey," Flack said.

Paulina looked up in surprise. "Don? Hey! I thought … didn't you have him yesterday?" she asked.

"Yeah," Don smiled, "I came to talk to you about something. Kieran, will you give us a minute?" he asked.

Kieran pouted. "But daddy, I need help on my math homework," he explained, "I want you to help."

"Kieran, daddy and I have to talk right now," Paulina explained, "but afterwards, if he has time, daddy can go help you."

"Yeah, I got time. Ten minutes, OK, buddy?" Don asked.

Kieran nodded and headed into his room.

After he was safely in his room, Don looked at Paulina. He couldn't help but admire her shapely form, visible even underneath her green thermal t-shirt and her baggy sweats. He lost himself for a moment in her soft eyes, remembering that her hair moved like a golden cloud under his fingers, soft and smooth. He cleared his throat and straightened. "Uh, look, I'm just warning you here, even though it's sorta not legal for me to volunteer this information, and I'm just trying to make sure you're safe – that you and Kieran are safe, even if –"

Laughing, Paulina interrupted, "Spit it out, Donnie."

"Look, there's this guy in the building who's a sexual predator."

Paulina's eyes went wide. "Is Kieran … ?"

"No, not really. The guy's into girls. But you should be careful." He pulled out a pen and wrote down Danny's number on the back of his business card, "This is the number of a friend of mine if you can't reach me, but I want you to call if something happens. Don't hesitate." He held out the card. Paulina took it and glanced at it pensively.

"You really think this is necessary?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," Flack said without hesitation, "And I can pick up some locks for the door or something if you want. And tell Kieran to ask who it is before he answers the door. He opened it without asking when I got here."

"I'll take care of the locks," she said, putting the card on top of the telephone, "And you can tell Kieran while you're helping him with math. Just don't scare him too much, Donnie, he's only five."

Flack rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Don't give me that look," Paulina teased, swatting him lightly with a dishcloth as she turned back to the bowl of batter. She grinned at him.

"Thanks, Paulie," Don smiled, heading into Kieran's room.


	10. Chapter 10

Jilly shook the swing, forcing the snow off of it. She sat down primly and looked expectantly at Kieran.

"If you know how to swing yourself, then why do you always need a push?" Kieran grumbled before pulling the chains of the swing back, bring Jilly back a good foot and a half.

He let go and quickly dove out of the way before jumping onto the swing next to hers.

"I already figured out how to do it, I don't need to do it again," she explained, swinging her legs back and forth, "Plus, it's hard to start swinging."

Kieran furiously swung his legs to keep up with her. Once they were level, he grinned and stuck his tongue out.

Jilly laughed and pumped harder, swinging higher and higher until she thought she must be nearly parallel with the top bar of the swing set. She could practically pretend she was flying. Her favorite thing to do was to close her eyes as soon as she was at the highest she could go, and just sit in the swing until she was no longer moving. She could easily pretend that she was Superman.

"It's snowing!" Kieran said excitedly, staring up at the clouds above.

Jilly giggled, feeling the tiny pricks of melting snow on her face. "It feels nice," she said happily.

"What are you going to get for Christmas?" Kieran asked as he swung lazily, watching Jilly slowly come back to earth.

Jilly shrugged. "I think I want a tree."

Kieran laughed loudly. "You can't have a tree!" he shrieked.

Jilly snapped her eyes open and looked at him, eyes wide. "Watch me!" she said excitedly, and jumped off the swing. She landed on her feet in the snow and jogged over to the cluster of trees at the end of the playground. Kieran leaped off his swing and chased after her.

She stood underneath them, staring straight up at the thick, brown branches cutting lines into the stormy sky above her.

"This one," she said, touching her rainbow-gloved hand to the bark of the twistiest, grumpiest tree. "I want this one for Christmas," she laughed.

"Well I want a remote control car," Kieran said, "A remote control police car!"

Jilly giggled and hugged her tree. "My present is bigger," she teased, "And it's alive. His name is … Benny!"

"Trees aren't alive," Kieran said, puzzled, "They're just trees."

"Nuh – uh. My mommy says they breathe air like we do, only they do it backwards."

"Do not."

"Do, too."

"Do not."

"Hey, kids," said a voice behind them. Kieran and Jilly turned to look at the man standing outside the fenced in playground. He was stocky, with small eyes and two large ears on either side of his face. He had wispy, gray hair and a fairly large nose. Jilly thought he looked like a skinny, pale elephant. Kieran thought he looked like trouble.

"My, those are some pretty gloves," he said to Jilly.

Jilly smiled at him, showing all her teeth. She held up her rainbow gloves, their vibrant colors made even more obvious in the white, snowy landscape of the playground.

"And sparkly, too," the man said, smiling a tiny little smile, "You must like sparkles, isn't that right, sugar?" He hooked two fingers in the diamond wire patter of the fence, leaning in closer. Kieran could smell the sharp scent of alcohol on his clothes. He knew what it was – he'd smelled it on his stepfather nearly every night.

"I –" Jilly started to say.

Kieran tugged her sleeve and whispered in her ear, cutting her off. "We're not supposed to talk to strangers, remember?" he whispered, cupping his hand around her ear.

"Oh, yeah," she whispered back, "I forgot."

The two stood and faced the strange man standing before them, smiling his small smile. "What are you two whispering about? What did your parents tell you about secrets?" the man said, grinning.

"They said we're not supposed to talk to strangers," Kieran said firmly, "C'mon, Jilly, let's go." He tugged her sleeve.

They turned and walked away. Jilly glanced back only once to look curiously at the man at the fence. The man gave her a little wave, which she chose not to return.

* * *

"Come on, kiddo, I ain't got all day," Danny said, looking behind him. His arms were laden with grocery bags he'd pulled from the car. Jilly leaned heavily on the passenger's door to shut it, then trudged after Danny, a bag nearly half her size in her arms.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah," Danny grunted, punching the elevator button with his elbow.

"Why can't I talk to strangers?"

"Because you don't know what they're thinkin'."

"But what if they're nice?"

"Especially if they're nice," Danny said, giving her a little nudge with his foot. "Into the elevator with you, before it closes."

She clomped into the elevator, the bag and her heavy snow boots weighing her down. "But why?" she asked, peering up at him curiously.

Danny looked down at her, censoring his words carefully. "'Cause sometimes people are pretending to be nice."

"Always?" Jilly asked, eyes wide.

"Not always. But it's better to be safe just in case. You wanna hit the button?"

Jilly set the bag on the floor and skipped to the panel of floor numbers, neatly pressing her thumb on number 3. "So which strangers can I talk to?"

"The ones mommy and I tell you are OK." He leaned back on the wall, alleviating the weight of the grocery bags. He closed his eyes lightly, his mind firmly stuck on the image of Lindsay's soft shape as he'd left her. He wondered why it didn't bother him to do every little chore she asked of him. It wasn't like she asked much, really, he reasoned, but if any other girl had asked him to go do the groceries after the grueling shift he'd had, especially when he was on call for the night and would probably get called in, he'd have told them to fuck off.

Jilly scrunched up her nose in thought. "What if …" she said slowly, "What if someone says hi to me on the subway? Can I talk to _them_?"

"You can say hi back. That's it," Danny reasoned. The doors slid open to their floor. Jilly hoisted up the bag again, giving a small, high pitched 'oof,' as she lifted it.

Danny grinned and stood in front of the door. He jostled his bags, shifting one of them to his knee as he worked the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. "Go ahead, JJ," he said, kicking the door open further. She trudged into the apartment and dumped the bag onto the kitchen floor. Reaching in, she took out the bread and headed to the bread drawer, the only kitchen cabinet she could reach, to put it in.

"Why you askin' about strangers anyway, Jilly?" Danny asked, setting his load onto the counter.

"Is mommy home?" Jilly chirped.

"She's in the bedroom," Danny responded, his previous question forgotten, "But she's not feelin' too good, so be nice and quiet."

* * *

Danny's phone rang cheerfully, piercing the welcome quiet of the apartment.

Danny groaned and rolled Lindsay carefully off of himself.

"Mmph," Lindsay said eloquently as he set her down on the mattress as he reached over her body to his cell phone, which was buzzing and beeping happily on the bedside table.

"Hello?" Danny asked groggily as he slid out of the bed and into the bathroom so he wouldn't disturb Lindsay. He'd spent nearly two hours helping her go to sleep through her nausea, and wasn't about to ruin a good thing.

"_Danny, it's Mac. We need you out at a scene in the park. Another brunette DB, raped, with extensive torture."_

Danny splashed water on his face to wake himself up. "Got it," he grunted, "This our same guy?"

"_Flack thinks so. He and Stella are there now. I thought that since you know the case…"_

"No, I got it. I'll be there in ten."

Danny snapped the phone shut and crept back into his bedroom, leaving a hastily scribbled note for Lindsay and giving her a quick kiss to her head.

As he stepped out into the cold air in the park, he stuck his hands in his pocket to pull out his gloves. His hand wrapped around something small and squishy. He pulled it out, using the weak light of his car headlights to see what it was. It was a small, stuffed frog he'd picked up for Jilly the day earlier. He'd found it in a little shop near the crime lab and had decided that she'd go wild for it. It was made of fleecy material, with big bug eyes and covered in sequined spots. He grinned and shook his head, shoving it back in his pocket to find his gloves.

He was always finding traces of the two women in his life all over his things: a trace of Lindsay's lipstick on the inside collar of one of his shirts, glitter dumped in one of his shoes, a note from Lindsay in his jeans pocket. He complained about it to no avail, demanding that his stuff be separate so he wouldn't turn into a girl. But, truth was, he kind of liked it. It reminded him there was something waiting for him at home.

"What've we got?" he asked, stepping out onto the snow-covered grass.

"Gina de Santos, 35. Two kids at home," Flack said solemnly.

"Same MO," Stella said sadly, tenderly moving the woman's curly brown hair from the side of her face to observe a nasty cut.

"Isn't this a little early for this one to be found?" Flack mentioned, "All our other girls were found in the morning, in the afternoon – is he getting scared by the patrols? Toning down his game?"

"Doubt it," Stella said, "If anything, this poor girl looks more tortured than the others."

The woman's lack of clothing only proved to back up Stella's statement – her flesh was entirely covered in some form of scrape, bruise, or burn. It caused her body to stand out fiercely against the white, glaring snow: the colorful surface of the woman's skin a brutal painting in the harsh light of the crime scene lamps.

"We gotta catch this guy," Danny said, stating the obvious.

"He's too good," Stella mourned, "Semen doesn't show up in any system we've checked, no fingerprints on their clothing, no discernable footprints in the snow, and despite the hours he leaves these girls in the park, nobody seems to see a thing."

"So we got nothing new on this girl?" Danny asked.

Flack and Stella glanced at each other.

"Kind of," Stella said.

"What's that?" Danny asked.

Stella pointed at a scrape above the woman's underpants. "You see this gash here? It was opened as something was rubbed against it, and I found a blue fiber in the wound. Gina was reported missing in a blue dress. But Sid told us that the wound was re-opened _before _Gina was killed, but not by much. We suspect that he took off her clothes only seconds before killing her."

Danny squinted at the woman on the ground, working out the scene in his head. "So he makes her stand in the cold, then kills her by hitting the back of her head? What's stopping her from running away?"

Stella shook her head. "I can't figure it out," she said slowly, "We'll have to let the evidence tell us."

* * *

Early the next morning, Danny slowly pushed the door to the apartment open, his eyes rimmed with lack of sleep. He kicked his way through the apartment, moving assorted teddy bears, Legos, and clothing.

"Nobody cleans the goddamn apartment," he muttered, only somewhat lucid. He dropped his jacket over the couch and, following its movement, dropped to the couch, falling heavily on the cushions. Burying his face in the pillow, he groaned loudly.

"Daddy?" Jilly whispered, blinking in the weak light of a very early morning.

"Go t'bed, Jilly, it's still dark out," Danny said to the pillow.

Jilly tip-toed her way over to him and sat down on his back. Danny groaned again and shook her off, turning around to face the ceiling.

"Go back to sleep," he grumbled.

"There's a dragon in the closet," Jilly said simply.

"Not now, Jilly, I'm too tired to fight any dragons," Danny complained.

"But there is," Jilly insisted, a tear threatening to drip from her eye. She climbed on top of Danny, ignoring his weak protesting groans, and rested her head neatly under his chin.

"Fine," Danny said, "We'll …" he yawned loudly, "fix it …" he closed his eyes and brought his arms around Jilly, "Tomorrow."

Jilly snuggled into his chest and dozed until Lindsay came out to find them.


	11. Chapter 11

Jilly pulled Kieran through the building. Her hand was tightly clasped around his as she raced down the hallway, their shoes lined neatly at the door of their classroom. Their socked feet pattered down the slick surface.

"Now!" Jilly shouted, and the two jumped and slid – Kieran in his socks, Jilly in her blue and white spotted tights. They slid a good twenty feet, along the slippery, just-polished hallway. They laughed hard as they finished, Kieran at Jilly's crazy, wonton curls, Jilly at the way Kieran had finished – one foot further than the other, his jacket pushed up above his belly button.

"Again?" she asked once they'd finished.

"OK," he agreed, standing up. They trudged back along the hallway, their covered feet grayish with the dirt on the floor.

"Do you think our mommies are here yet?" Jilly asked.

"My daddy's going to pick me up," Kieran said proudly.

"Oh," Jilly said, "My daddy takes me in the mornings and my mommy always picks me up. She's almost always on time, though," she mentioned, thinking it through. She glanced up at the clock. Lindsay was nearly thirty minutes late. Sooner or later, they'd have to sit with one of the teachers until they could be picked up instead of just being checked out at the front door.

They positioned themselves in a pre-sprinting position, ready to race down the hall, when they heard a voice behind them.

"Kieran, Jilly, c'mere, guys."

"Daddy?" Jilly asked inquisitively.

"Hey, baby," Danny said, opening his arms as he walked towards them. Jilly ran up and hugged him, only to be swept into a swift hug and a kiss. Danny placed her down, glancing at her dirty feet with a shake of his head, and helped her put on her shoes.

"I'm gonna take you guys with me, OK?" Danny said, getting on his knees to help Jilly slip on her snow boots.

"Where's my daddy?" Kieran asked, confused.

"He's with Jilly's mom. They're busy right now, so I'm gonna take you to 'em. Don't worry," he said as he forced himself to grin, and took their hands.

* * *

Despite Danny's cheerful façade, there was much to be worried about, specifically, the bomb sitting right in between Lindsay and Flack. The two were tied to the bomb, their duct-taped hands stuck to the assorted wires as Laura, a bomb squad technician, carefully worked them out of it.

"How long were you two held hostage here?" she asked, feebly trying to make conversation.

"Almost two hours," Lindsay sighed.

"Felt like years," Flack said, wincing as his expressive face interfered with the heavy bruise sitting right at his hairline.

"Got places to be?" Laura asked.

"Damn right," Flack said grumpily, "Paulina was gonna let me pick up Kieran today, did you know that, Lindsay?"

"You've only told me twelve million times," she grunted back.

"Oh, _so sorry _if I can't think of anything else to say while I'm wondering if this is my last day on earth," Flack reasoned sarcastically.

"Well, it won't be that," Laura reasoned. She was a middle aged woman with quick fingers and a heart-shaped birthmark on her left cheek, "If I do set the bomb off, it'll go on a timer first, and we'll have ample time to get you two out of here. 'Course, the building may not be so lucky …"

"Fuck the building," Lindsay said, "We have places to be." She wiggled her feet slightly, moving them from the cramped, bent position next to her stomach. She was incredibly pissed that this was, most likely, the last time she was going to be out in the field. Danny was going to go berserk. When she'd talked to him on the phone, he'd been patient and caring, telling her to be safe and asking if she'd been hurt at all. She hadn't been touched; Flack had made sure of that.

"Wow, Laura, would you listen to that mouth?" Flack whistled, "Country girl's got a regular sailor's mouth."

"A-a-and, you're good," Laura said, carefully easing each of their hands off of the bomb.

Flack and Lindsay wiggled away from the bomb, then un-taped themselves.

"Finally," Flack said, stretching.

"Thanks, Laura," Lindsay said, watching the woman carefully work on disabling the bomb.

"Doin' my job," Laura said calmly, "Now go – you've both got kids to see, am I right?"

"Yep," Flack said happily, and walked out of the building.

* * *

"Daddy," Kieran shouted excitedly, jogging down the steps of the crime lab.

Flack swept him up into a hug. "Man, am I glad to see you, buddy. Let's get out of here," he said. "You guys good?" he asked Danny, watching as Lindsay hugged Jilly tightly.

"I guess," Danny said through gritted teeth, walking calmly down the steps to where Lindsay and Jilly were excitedly chatting.

"She didn't know, man," Flack said quietly to Danny as he placed Kieran down on the ground, "It was a safe scene. And she's fine now. Don't do this again. You can't flip out every time something happens you can't control. We've been over this."

"So I can't be mad my wife almost got fucking blown up?" Danny responded dangerously, his voice low.

"Don't take it out on her," Flack suggested, "Be glad nothing happened."

Danny turned his head to Flack. "Nothing did, right? She wasn't just … sayin' that."

"They never touched her. Knocked me on the head to get control, took my gun, tied us up. She didn't try anything heroic for the baby. Nobody hurt her."

"You're sure?" Danny asked anxiously.

"I'm sure," Flack said, clapping Danny on the shoulder. "And I'm leaving. Kieran, let's go."

Kieran took Flack's hand and the two walked off to Flack's car, leaving Danny, Lindsay, and Jilly. As Danny placed his arm around Lindsay and lifted Jilly up, he thought deeply about what Flack said, focusing on it until his anger diminished and he was flooded with warm, relaxing relief. He turned and kissed Lindsay, on the streets, in front of Jilly – he didn't give a damn. He pulled her body towards him and let the soft, subtle movements of her tongue work all the tension from his mind, let the feel of her lips and her warm mouth ease him.

"Ew," Jilly laughed, burying her face in Danny's shirt to hide her eyes.

"Deal with it," Danny grunted to her. He smoothed Lindsay's hair out of her face as his heartbeat slowed to normal again.

* * *

Danny rolled into the bed, his eyes nearly shutting the second his head hit the pillow. Lindsay wiggled closer to him, pulling the blankets up over their heads.

"Say something," she whispered, her voice moist and warm under the heavy blankets. Danny could feel her warm body just inches from his. Part of her hair was next to his cheek, tickling him lightly.

"Something," he grumbled, refusing to open his eyes.

"You know what I mean," Lindsay whispered. Danny felt her slide closer. She carefully pressed one arm on the bed on his other side and pressed herself up, finally resting on top of him. The skin he could feel under her shirt exuded warmth, but her toes were freezing as they found his calves and kneaded into his warm skin. The contrast made him shiver.

"Talk about it," she commanded, resting her head on the pillow next to his head, watching the side of his head. She followed the muscles in his face as he swallowed, his eyes opening slowly and staring up at the blanket tented over his head.

"'Bout what?" he asked slowly as he slid his hands gently up her t-shirt, sliding them up to the waistband of her underpants.

She shook him off with a waggle of hips. "You haven't said anything," she whispered to his ear, her breath warm and ticklish. "You haven't talked at all about what happened today, and I know it's killing you."

"If you know so much, then why don't you tell me what I want to say," he suggested, returning his hands to her hips. He dragged his fingers up and down her skin, allowing himself a small smile when she shivered under his touch.

"Danny, please," she insisted, bringing her arms tighter into his body.

Danny gritted his teeth and remained silent.

"OK, then I'll tell you what I thought," Lindsay said softly. "When they hit Flack, I thought I was going to die. Not for a long time, just really quickly. Five seconds. And I thought that the baby was going to die." Danny's arms tightened instinctively around her waist, slipping his hands up further to her stomach.

"And I thought about Jilly," she said, sliding her head closer to his ear. "And you," she whispered, sucking lightly on his earlobe. "And I thought that dying would be pretty awful, in a word. But then I started thinking about what you would do. And I felt better. Because I know that if I ever did die –"

"Don't."

"Let me talk," she whispered, soothing him with a gentle kiss just below his ear, "If I ever did die, I know you'd take care of Jilly. Because she's our daughter and you know that neither of us could ever forgive ourselves if something happened to her."

"Stop," Danny pleaded, staring straight up at the sheets.

"You'll always think of her first. Promise me that."

"Lindsay, stop."

"Just do it for me, Danny," she pleaded.

"I promise." He turned on his side and kissed her hard, pouring what would have been his words into the kiss, hoping she wouldn't feel the burning desperation he felt, the deep fear he still couldn't rid himself of.

She moaned lightly as he bit her lip hard and adjusted herself on top of him, kissing him back fiercely.

He broke it suddenly, pressing his nose to her, his breathing harsh. "You won't go back in the field? Not 'til the baby's born?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"All I need to know," he breathed and pulled her mouth back to his.

* * *

"Jesus, another victim?" Flack said as he jogged down the narrow incline to the third body.

"I thought we were upping the patrols in the park?" Danny asked.

"We have," Mac grunted, "He seems to have outwitted them." Mac sighed as he glanced at the arm of the woman lying on the ground. "This is Meredith Stein, 36. Her husband is waiting to talk to us down at the station."

"What does she do for a living?" Sheldon asked, snapping a picture of the woman's broken nails.

"She's a private doctor." He stood and frowned, concentrating. "The first victim was a veterinarian, the second a nurse. Could he be looking at people in the medical profession?"

"Third victim, Veronica Rodriguez, was a model," Flack reminded him.

Mac shrugged. "Still, it can't be a coincidence that three of our victims are in the medical profession."

"Three very different facets of the medical profession," Sheldon added, "It's not like they all studied the same type of medicine, nor to the same degree."

Danny stood and glanced up and around them. "Only similarity is their looks, isn't it? Brunettes in their mid-thirties." He placed the evidence he'd collected in his kit and smacked the lid closed. "There are thousands of those in the city. Tens of thousands. No way we can use that."

"All the women were from different classes, two married, one engaged, one single," Mac remarked, thinking it through, "The only factor he's using is their looks. They could very well be completely random attacks."

"Spies a girl alone that fits the profile," Flack mused, "And he nabs her."

"Well," Danny said, "I gotta get these to the lab. Hawkes, you done?"

"No; I'll ride with Mac, though. Go ahead."

Danny packed up his stuff and walked to the car. Flack jogged up to catch up with him. "Hey, how's Lindsay?" Flack asked once they were even.

"She's good," Danny said, "Just relaxing. I thought Mac gave you time off, too? What's the matter, nothin' else to do?"

"Exactly," Flack groaned.

"You can't be serious," Danny snorted, "Go right now over to Paulina's house, kick out her husband, grab her, and –"

"Shut it," Flack grumbled. "Though I did pick her husband up yesterday. Public intoxication again."

"That ain't right, man," Danny commented, "Kieran shouldn't be in that kind of place. You know just as well as I do that where they're livin' ain't exactly safe either."

Flack sighed. "Paulina … well, she's hard to convince, Dan. She lives in the kind of world where everyone is nice if you give them something to eat."

"Isn't she a cook, or something?" Danny chuckled.

"Baker," Don corrected, "And occasional art teacher, when her lazy ass husband won't get a job."

"You're pathetic, man," Danny laughed, "You won't even admit –"

"So what do you think he's luring them with? Is it just a grab, or maybe they're meeting this guy at a certain place?"

They climbed into the car. "I dunno," Danny said, "It feels like they're all random. Plus, one girl was from out of state."

"Right, right," Don agreed. He sighed. "This guy's good."

"We're better," Danny shrugged.


	12. Chapter 12

Jilly covered her eyes. "Ten … nine … eight … um … s-seven? … six … five … four … three two one!" She tore her hands away from her face and looked around the flat playground for any trace of Kieran. "Ready or not, here I come!" she shouted. She walked over to the jungle gym and peered under the slide. No Kieran.

Trudging over to the leaf-less bushes lining the playground wall, she checked in and around them before climbing up the ladder of the jungle gym. Finally, she snagged him. "Gotcha!" she shrieked, crawling up to the highest level to where Kieran crouched in a corner.

"OK," he said, grinning widely, "Your turn."

"No peeking," Jilly warned.

* * *

"Hey, Jilly, button your jacket; you crazy? It's freezing out here!" Danny shouted from the bench where he sat with Don Flack, drinking coffee and watching the kids play at a park near the crime lab. "Kid doesn't figure out she's cold until she's back at home sneezing her ass off," he grumbled to Flack.

Flack chuckled and looked back down at the case file in his lap, filled with glossy pictures of the Women in the Park, as the press was calling them. "So you think he threatened them, then?"

"Yeah," Danny said, turning back to the file, "I mean, from what their families say, these weren't the kind of women to lay down and take it. They musta been threatened by something. Maybe a weapon."

"You find any evidence of that yet?"

"Not yet," Danny sighed.

* * *

Jilly waited until Kieran's eyes were closed tightly, then quickly clambered down the jungle gym and raced behind the bushes, to the spot she'd scouted out while searching for Kieran. She got down on her knees, wincing as slushy snow seeped into her jeans. She pulled her jacket closer around herself.

"Hey there," she heard from behind her.

She stood in surprise, looking behind her to find the man who'd talked to her at the playground only a few days earlier. She blinked and put her hands into her pockets as a sudden chill swept over her.

The man smiled and got down on one knee before her. "My, don't you have the prettiest hair," he said, grinning. His eyes traced the deep golden curls as they twirled out from under Jilly's neon green hat, framing her face in spinning lines that caught the weak light from the sun.

Jilly took a tiny step back.

"Oh, don't be afraid, now, I'm not going to hurt you," the man said, smiling his little smile. "And would you look at that, your knees are all wet!" He pointed at the dark patches of melted snow on Jilly's knees.

Jilly followed the line of his finger to her knees and shrugged.

"Why don't I take you to the bathroom and we can dry up some of that water?" The man suggested, his face an innocent look of concern.

Jilly shyly shook her head, tipping her eyesight towards the ground.

"Come on, it won't take long," the man smiled.

Jilly took another step backwards.

* * *

"Jilly," Danny said through gritted teeth. Jilly's head turned towards the voice to see Danny standing next to her. He bent down and swept her up, holding her in a fierce hug.

He adjusted her so her face pointed behind him. She could see Flack approaching them with Kieran's hand held in his own.

"Potts," Danny grunted by way of greeting.

"Got this?" Don asked quietly, his grip on Kieran's hand tightening.

"Yeah," Danny growled, "Take her to the car," he said, reluctantly handing Jilly to Flack.

Flack settled Jilly on his hip and nodded to Danny. "Don't stay long," he said quietly, and started off to the SUV parked by the edge of the park.

"Daddy, what's Danny doing?" Kieran asked, attempting to turn around to watch. He caught a glimpse of Danny harshly dragging Calvin Potts behind the bathroom wall.

Flack dragged Kieran to look forwards. "Just look ahead, Kieran; Danny's just telling that guy not to talk to you guys again," he said. "You ever see that guy again, you tell me or Danny," he instructed Kieran.

Jilly wrapped her arms around Don's neck. "But why?" she asked.

"That guy ain't a good guy," Flack explained.

"How do you know?" she questioned, scrunching up her nose.

Flack struggled to find the right words. "Look, our job is to figure out who's a bad guy and who's not. So after a while, we get pretty good at it. And we can both tell you – promise you – that Potts – the guy who tried to talk to you – is a bad guy." He opened the door and helped Jilly in, buckling her into her booster seat before lifting Kieran into the car as well.

"He was at school, too," Kieran said.

Flack nearly slipped off the sidewalk and slammed his head on the top of the car. "Ow," he muttered. "You're sure?" he asked, "You've seen him before?"

Kieran nodded. "He said Jilly had pretty gloves, but we didn't talk to him that time either."

"That's good," Flack said, "Don't talk to him. Ever. Unless you're telling him to go away. Clear?"

Kieran and Jilly nodded, eyes wide.

"Let's go," Danny grunted as he approached the car. He climbed into the passenger's seat as Flack started the engine.

"Things go OK?" Flack asked, his voice low so the kids wouldn't hear.

"Yeah," Danny assured him, wiping his bloody knuckles on some tissues he found in the glove box.

* * *

"We can't arrest him, Danny," Flack hissed as he leaned against the wall outside Danny and Lindsay's office, "He didn't do nothin' wrong. Legally, anyways."

"He was at a school! He was standing right outside the fence! And at the park – he was talking with my _daughter._"

"Well he ain't a convicted offender. There's nothing we can do. He broke no laws, and he's clamin' she was the one to start talking."

"We could –"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was gonna say!"

"Yeah, I do. I'm not risking my job for that guy."

"But if it was your kid he talked to," Danny snarled, "You'd feel a little different."

"Maybe for a little while, yeah, but eventually I'd see that it's not worth it," Don reasoned.

"Whatever," Danny muttered. He slammed open the door to his office open, finding Jilly and Kieran playing happily with a few toy cars Lindsay kept in her desk. "Jilly, come over here. Now."

Jilly looked up in surprise, sensing the deep anger burning off of Danny in a simmering haze. She stood carefully to her feet and dragged her heels as she walked towards Danny, her hands nervously toying with the edge of her jacket.

Danny glared down at her. "Outside," he said, pointing at the door.

With a weak glance back at Kieran, who was sitting in a little haze of oblivion as he zoomed the toy dump truck over to the edge of the couch.

Flack brushed into the room, hissing to Danny, "Don't be hard on her," as he walked over to Kieran.

Danny put a hand on the back of Jilly's coat and moved her out of the office. As they were out the door, he reached down and grabbed her hand. He practically dragged her to the break room and, once in the room, quickly swung her up and plopped her down on the countertop so she was his level.

"Look at me," he commanded.

She met his gaze, biting her lower lip.

"You never, ever do that again." His voice nearly trembled with conviction, eyes burning with intensity as he held tightly to the counter on either side of her knees.

Jilly gulped nervously. "Do what?" she asked sincerely.

Danny's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do not play games with me right now, Jillian. You never, ever talk to a stranger like that."

"But I didn't –" she squeaked.

"He could have hurt you, Jillian, you hear me?" Danny said angrily, "He could have –" He stopped himself, pausing instead to cover his mouth with his hand, shaking his head to rid the thought from his mind.

Jilly's lower lip trembled in fear of Danny, fear of what could have happened although she wasn't sure entirely what that was. "I didn't _do _anything," she said, her voice pleading.

"Jillian," Danny warned.

"I didn't, daddy, I swear," Jilly said in a shaky voice.

Danny watched her for signs of lying. She kept his gaze, didn't exhibit signs of nervousness, didn't blink excessively. "What did you do, then?"

"Nothing," she said, beginning to cry. "He said I had pretty hair and asked me if I wanted to go to the bathroom to dry my knees." She gave a sob. "I didn't say anything, Daddy, I didn't."

Danny scrutinized her face, then sighed. He saw the situation for what it was: a man desperately trying to stay out of jail, throwing the blame onto a little girl's made-up folly instead. "You swear you never talked to him?"

Jilly shook her head vehemently, her honey curls catching on the wet tears on her cheek and sticking to her skin. "He was scary," she sobbed. She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"All right," Danny consented, "I'm sorry, honey. I shoulda asked you first." He kissed her forehead and tucked her hair behind her ears. She reached out and hugged him, her arms barely reaching around the front of his broad torso. "Look," he said, lifting her up. He crossed his arms under her butt, scooting her up so they were completely level, face to face. "If you ever see that man again, I want you to yell and shout as loud as you can. Clear?"

Jilly sniffed and nodded solemnly.

"He scare you?" Danny asked, his voice much gentler than before.

She nodded again, her face crumpling as she buried her head in his neck and cried. He rubbed her back soothingly.

"Just tell me if you see him again. I'll take care of it, OK? You don't gotta worry."

She nodded into his neck, believing the statement wholly.

* * *

The next day, Lindsay arrived at the school to pick the two up. Paulina had called Flack in desperation, telling him that she was stuck in traffic in Queens making a cake delivery, and couldn't possibly pick Kieran up, and could he please do it. Flack, however, was in the middle of an intense interrogation with a man spotted near one of the bodies of one of the dead women in the park. He'd called Danny, who'd called Lindsay.

So there Lindsay sat, waiting in front of the public elementary school, watching the clock and the doors. Finally, the clock struck three and she got out of her car into the freezing cold. The temperature had dropped nearly twenty degrees since the day before, leaving icy roads and a shivering, pissed off Lindsay. She'd had to park around the building, on a secluded, lonely little alleyway next to the school. She stomped through the icy puddles towards the school, cursing weather of all types.

She headed into the slightly warmer building and signed out Kieran and Jilly before taking the two into the car. They were in the midst of a terribly important argument over whether sandwiches or Lunchables were a better snack.

Lindsay buckled them into their booster seats and stomped into the driver's seat. As she started the ignition, she knew something was wrong. The car wheezed angrily, refusing to start. Lindsay checked the gas tank and found it on empty.

"What?" she muttered, confused. She knew she'd refilled it only the night before.

Looking in her rear view mirror, she noticed quickly that the gas tank was open. She stepped out of the car to close it when she blacked out completely.

* * *

"But I hate that pizza," Jilly said, "It tastes so weird, like it's plastic. It's not real pizza."

"I like it," Kieran argued, "I think it's good. Sandwiches are gross because everything gets in the bread and then it's always soggy."

Jilly rolled her eyes at him. "You're wrong," she sing-songed. Suddenly, she looked over to the open driver's side door. "I'm cold."

"Me, too," Kieran agreed, "Where's your mommy?"

Jilly deftly unsnapped her booster buckle and crawled over the center divider to the empty front seat. "Mommy?" she asked.

There was no response.

"Did she get out of the car?" Kieran asked, unbuckling his seat belt as well. He climbed up front after Jilly, settling in the passenger's seat.

"I don't know, I wasn't looking," Jilly shrugged. She slid out of the car, dropping to the floor on her knees. She hissed as the gritty asphalt cut into her thin tights. She stood and stared at her scraped palms, frowning. As she looked up, she gasped.

Kieran, slipping out after her, could only gape at the scene before them.

"Mommy?"

* * *

"Danny, it's probably nothing," Adam said, typing Lindsay's cell phone number into the computer and triangulating her signal, "And then she'll yell at me about being a stalker, and she'll be mad at you for worrying, and –"

"Adam," Don said firmly, "Just find the number."

"OK, sure, no problem," Adam chirped, and waited for the signal to be located.

The three stared at the computer, Flack's foot tapping anxiously on the floor, Danny's finger's drumming a complicated beat on the back of Adam's chair.

"There," Adam said, "It's on right now and it's … wait, that can't be right." He squinted at the map on the screen.

"Is that …" Flack asked, "OK, correct me if I'm wrong, here, but she seems to be in the ocean."

"No, that's right. She's in the ocean," Adam said.

Danny jogged out of the room, mind going wild with possibilities. Flack chased after him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Wait, Danno, hold up. We gotta talk this out. What's going on here?"

"I don't know," he grunted.

"Well where are you going?"

"Home. She obviously doesn't have her cell phone, so I'm going home."

Mac stepped out of his office ahead of them, cell phone pressed to his ear, one hand held out in front of him, calling for Danny and Flack to stop. He hung up quickly and put his phone in his pocket. "Adam just called me."

"Yeah, so you gotta know that it's urgent. I'm goin' home to check and see if she's there," Danny said quickly, attempting to brush past him.

Mac caught him in the chest and pushed him back. "Slow down, there, Danny. Let's think this through."

"Mac, I ain't got time to think this through," Danny said.

"Who said anything about time?" Flack broke in, heart racing, "We got time. Time ain't the issue. Let's just call the school, she was gonna pick the kids up anyways. Maybe she had to stay late and talk to a teacher."

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the school, walking a bit away from Danny and Mac to make the call.

"Danny," Mac said quietly, "If she's missing, we have to consider all possibilities."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Danny snapped.

"Danny, her cell phone is in the ocean," Mac said gently.

"So?" Danny snorted.

"Well, that could mean that maybe she's there, too –"

Danny brushed past him. "Don't talk like that," he shouted over his shoulder, "Don't fucking talk like that to me!" He stormed out of the lab, Flack jogging behind him, cell phone still pressed to his ear.

Mac sighed and pulled out his own cell phone. He dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. "We have a missing CSI, and I'd like a dive team sent to these coordinates to search for her," he said, his voice betraying a hint of mourning.

* * *

"School says the kids were picked up on time," Flack relayed to Danny, hanging up his phone and jumping into the driver's seat of his department car. He turned on the sirens and headed out into traffic, speeding towards the school.

"Did anyone see them leave?" Danny asked, dialing his home phone for the thousandth time.

"Yeah. Linds signed them out."

"So we'll see if anyone knows where she said she was going," Danny said firmly, forcing himself to think that that there was nothing wrong.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Thanks LOADS to Laurzz for her help on which way to go with this.**_

* * *

"No!" Kieran shouted wiggling out of the man's grasp. The man ignored him and threw him into the back of the van. Kieran hit the ground hard, wincing as his arm scraped across a jutting piece of sharp metal on the side of the van.

The man bent to pick Jilly up, but she stepped back from his touch. "I can do it myself," she said, scowling.

"Pretty stubborn, aren't you?" the kidnapper murmured, thrown by her determination.

Jilly planted her hands on the bumper of the truck and hoisted herself into the truck, scrambling to climb into it. She settled herself down next to Kieran, who was busy wiping blood from his arm, a concentrated look on his face.

Finally, the kidnapper dropped an unconscious Lindsay in the trunk of the car. Her hands were bound, unlike Kieran and Jilly's, and a trickle of blood fell from a cut at the edge of her hairline.

"Alright, everyone," the kidnapper said briskly, "we ready?"

Kieran and Jilly glared at him.

"My, we've got a full boat today," the man grinned as he slammed the trunk shut. "But not for long," he added quietly to himself as he locked it behind him and climbed into the driver's seat of his van. He gave a quick glance to Lindsay's SUV, parked neatly in a spot near the back of the grocery store parking lot.

He shut the driver's door of his van after climbing into the seat and picked up the sheet of paper with numbers from Lindsay's address book he'd copied down just before dropping her phone off the George Washington Bridge onto a barge. Whistling Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, he pulled out of the parking lot and sped out onto the empty street.

* * *

"Anything?" Flack called from the entrance of the alley. He walked towards Danny, who was kneeling at the end of the alley, a blank expression on his face as his eyes bored intently into something on the ground. "Danno? Anything?"

Receiving no response, Flack walked to where Danny was kneeling on the ground. He followed Danny's eyesight to a small smudge of blood on the asphalt. "Danny," he said, resting his hand on Danny's shoulder.

Danny jerked away from him and walked calmly over to the SUV. He pulled out his kit and snagged a q-tip from it. He methodically swabbed the stain and hopped back in the car. "Let's go," he grunted.

Don got into the driver's seat and started the car. "Danny, it doesn't –"

He was interrupted by the ringing of Danny's cell phone. Danny quickly answered it without checking the ID.

"Linds?" he asked anxiously.

"_Do you have a daughter and a wife?" the voice asked._

"Who the fuck are you?" Danny asked calmly.

"_I asked a question."_

"Yeah, I got a daughter and a wife."

"_I believe I have them here with me."_

"Oh, thank God," Danny sighed. He leaned back and closed his eyes. "Is there a little boy with 'em? Bout five years old, black hair –"

"_Blue eyes?" The man asked._

"Yeah, that's him," Danny smiled, tapping Flack on the arm. "Listen, are they OK? Can I talk to my wife?"

"_They're fine right now."_

"What?" Danny said, his face clouding, "Watcha mean, right now?"

"_You can have one of them back. I only wanted your wife anyways, but if she matters more to you, then I can take your daughter instead."_

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Danny asked, sitting up in his seat. He gripped the door handle so hard his knuckles turned white.

"_The kids go together, of course. You can have them both, or you can have your wife."_

The man's voice chilled Danny down to the bone. It was so patient and quiet, Danny could have been talking to him about stocks or breakfast nutrition. "Look man, I don't know what you're talkin' about. Just put my wife on the phone."

"_She isn't quite conscious at the moment."_

Danny shivered visibly. His eyes narrowed. "Tell me who you are. Right now."

"_I'm just a friend of your wife's. Or, I will be, anyways, if you chose to take your daughter back. It's really up to you."_

"Put my daughter on the phone."

"_I'm afraid I can't do that, either. I'm going to have to hang up soon –"_

"No, please, no, just put her on the phone –"

"_I'll call you back in an hour. I'm sure you're going to have it traced. I'd advise you not to; it won't matter if you do. You won't be able to trace me. You can leave me your decision then, and I'll get down to business. I don't usually do this. You should feel grateful."_

"You touch them," Danny said, his voice shaking with anger, "If you so much as lay one hand on either of them, I will tear you limb from limb."

"_I'll call you later."_

With a click, the man was gone.

* * *

Danny sat at the table, his hands folded in front of him. He stared at his cell phone. The clock ticked another minute. It had been exactly fifty-eight minutes. One second. Two seconds. Three. Danny looked over at Adam, who smiled weakly, hands poised over his keyboard. Danny followed the wire from the computer to his cell phone.

"Danny," Flack said hoarsely.

"Shut up, Flack," Danny grunted.

"I'm not gonna beg," Don said, "But the kids … they can't last on their own. Please, just –"

"I said shut up, Flack," Danny said. He had absolutely no desire to think about anyone 'lasting on their own.' He wondered if the man holding his wife and daughter hostage was aware that there were four hostages. Did the man know that he was making Danny chose between his children, even if one of them was unborn? Did Don know that he was asking for Danny to do the same thing? He thought about that little baby, no more than three months old, sitting patiently in Lindsay's belly. And Jilly, who'd been ready for school thirty minutes early that morning, jumping at the door with one hand on the knob, giggling and chattering excitedly to Danny about some turtle named General Grant.

Danny's phone rang ominously.

Danny slowly opened the phone. "Hello?" he said dully.

"_Hello. Have you made your decision?"_

"Can I just ask how you got this number, if my wife didn't give it you?" Danny asked.

"_Your daughter offered it up. Don't try to waste time, now. Who are you going to save? The children or your wife?"_

Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I want the children."

Don visibly relaxed, breathing out and slumping in his chair, tension eased from his body.

"_Meet me in two hours. I'll text you an address."_

"Wait –" Danny called out, and found himself listening to a dial tone. He looked up. "Adam? Anything?"

Adam shook his head. "His signal's bouncing all over the place. All over the world. It's amazing. I've never see a system so incredibly –"

"Shut up," Danny grunted, picking up his phone. An address flashed across the screen.

* * *

"It's gotta be one of them," Danny said firmly.

"You can't be sure of that!" Mac returned, hoping something would ring some sort of bell in Danny's head. He had a wild look about him, torn completely in two. "Danny, you have to pull yourself together. For all of them."

Danny glanced into the interrogation rooms, looking at a bewildered Greg Moody sitting patiently on the hard metal chair. "You saw his apartment. The pictures he had of her? They were –"

"They were old. Not recent," Mac broke in, "He hasn't been stalking her. You don't have reason for this. We can't hold him. No more than we can hold Calvin Potts."

Danny glanced down the hall towards the room where Calvin Potts was undergoing a thorough investigation by Flack. The shouting could be heard even from where Danny and Mac were standing.

"Danny, this isn't going to fix anything," Mac said soothingly, "Just by punishing the people who've wronged them doesn't mean they're going to come back. We could be doing something better in the time we have –"

"But it's something," Danny said desperately, leaning against the wall, "It's worth a shot. Please, Mac. We gotta hold 'em until the uniforms are done searching their apartments. If it's one of them, Mac, if one of these guys did this, then I can't – I can't –"

"It won't be your fault," Mac said gently, "You did everything right in dealing with these two. There was nothing more you could do in that area. But please, Danny, consider something else. There are other explanations. Other people that could have done this."

"I'm just making sure," Danny said, watching Stella enter the interrogation room holding Potts.

* * *

With a half an hour left to the time limit, Paulina raced into the precinct, still wearing her white chef's coat over blue jeans. White flour streaked across her cheek, her green eyes were glossy and a bit wild. Finally spotting Flack, who was talking hurriedly on the phone at his desk, she raced over.

Flack looked up and, seeing her, yelled something into the phone and hung up loudly. "Paulie –" he said, standing up quickly.

She stopped in front of him, twisting the bottom of her coat. "I …" she started, then took a deep breath and swallowed. "Your friend Sheldon called me, said you were interrogating someone and couldn't talk to me. He said … Donnie, he said …"

Flack placed his hands lightly on her shoulders, wishing he could do more, and caught her gaze as she tilted her head up to his. "I'm working on this, Paulie."

"Are you going to fix it?" Paulina asked, her voice harsher than she intended. "Because, Donnie, I can't live without Kieran, I really, really –" She stopped, covering her mouth with her hand as tears dripped down her cheeks.

Don sighed. "It's … a really delicate situation, Paulina. I ain't gonna lie. But Danny's in charge on this one." Noticing her start to speak, he quickly added, "I trust him with my life, Paulie, and with Kieran's. Whatever he does, he's thinking about Kieran, as well as his kid and wife."

Paulina searched his eyes, scrutinizing him for signs of doubt, signs that he was trying to make up something to comfort her. She could find none. "OK," she whispered.

"Sit down, all right? I'll drag over another chair and you can stay with me while I work on this. And when we gotta go, I'll call you with updates. And I'll bring him home. I will. I promise."

She nodded solemnly and sat down in his chair, her fingers tightly balled around the ends of her sleeves. "Can I do anything?" she asked hoarsely.

Don shook his head as he dragged over another chair. "It's fine. I know you want to, but we got this covered. It's my job. I know how to do this."

* * *

Danny put his gun in the glove box. He steadied himself, taking several deep breaths. "I'm ready," he whispered to Flack.

He didn't dare look over to where Flack was sitting, crouched down low in the passenger's seat of the SUV, his lanky legs bent awkwardly in the nook below the dashboard. Flack held one earphone to his ear, testing Danny's wire taping device.

"Be careful," Flack murmured.

Danny got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He didn't want to hear anything Flack had to say, really. All he could hear, no matter the words, were desperate pleas to a problem Danny had no desire to sort out.

He walked into the warehouse, headed right for the center of the echo-y, large room. Dark shapes were placed around the building, and Danny felt like he was four years old again, finding monsters in the shadows. For the first time since he'd made the decision, Danny regretted having called off having back-up. There were pianos everywhere – in boxes, out of boxes, on their sides, lined in rows. The room sang with potential music.

"I –" his voice faltered. He cleared his throat. "I'm here," he finally called to the empty room. Somewhere, a piano string vibrated menacingly with the frequency of his voice.

A dark shape slunk from the shadows, wearing a white mask over his face and long, black, leathery gloves. He was clothed entirely in black, every possible identifiable mark covered by some sort of fabric. Danny had no idea what race he was, his scars, his birthmarks. He could accurately judge that the kidnapper was a man from his stance, and that he was no more than 5'7". He glanced at the feet, suspecting maybe a size seven or eight.

"I changed my mind," Danny said to the man.

"About?" the man asked calmly. There was something chilling about his voice. It was cordial, though not cold at all. It was conversational, amiable. He sounded like any ordinary stranger on the street. This conversation, where four lives hung from every word traded, was nothing more than a business transaction to him.

"I want you to give me all of them. My wife and the kids. I'll do whatever you want – any amount of money, I can get it. You can even take me instead. But give me all of them." Danny stared at the spot where the man's eyes would be.

"You can have the children or your wife. There's no room for negotiation," the man said, sounding almost amused that Danny would consider there to be a choice. "You have thirty seconds to chose."

"I want them all," Danny said firmly. He knew he couldn't kill the man now, though he desperately wanted to. This man was the only one who knew where Lindsay and the kids were.

"You can't _have_ them all."

* * *

"You know what to do," Lindsay whispered, watching the scene from the tiny window of the van. She glanced nervously at the box behind the man, hidden from Danny's view by a large, baby grand piano. "You know what to do." She wiggled in her restraints, tugging at the biting line of the wire holding her wrists together. The thin metal cut sharply into her wrists. She winced, feeling blood running down the slice of the wire. She watched as Danny pleaded, as he begged for a different choice.

"You know what to do," she repeated, praying that the words would travel from the car to his ears.

* * *

"Just take me instead," Danny begged, "Let 'em all go." Tears of frustration slipped down his face. "Don't make me do this."

"If you don't chose," the man insisted, "They'll all die. Five."

"No, please, no," Danny begged, "Take me."

"Four."

"You can't fucking do this!" he shouted, filled with anger.

"Three."

"I'll do anything," he pleaded, washed with desperation.

"Two."

"No," he cried, already mourning.

"One."

"Jilly and Kieran. Give me the kids," he said, visibly sobbing.

The man smiled. "I thought so," he said, and kicked open the door to the box to his right. Jilly and Kieran stumbled out, blindfolded, their hands and feet free.

In the car behind Danny, Flack hated himself for his tears of relief. In the car behind the kidnapper, Lindsay cried them unabashedly.

The two kids were removed of their blindfolds, and Jilly set off at a run for Danny, crying for him. Danny fell to his knees, holding his arms out to her. He hugged her as he checked her roughly for any signs of harm. He tried to pull himself up, but found he couldn't, filled with weight of things he could not do.

Kieran stood by them awkwardly, searching the vacant lot for his father. Danny reached out and hugged him, too, kissing his head.

"Let's go to your dad, OK?" he whispered to Kieran. Kieran brightened and smiled.

"Go," the man commanded, "You leave first. I still have your wife, Detective Messer, remember that if you try to send anyone after me. I will not hesitate to kill her."

Danny picked up Jilly, took Kieran's hand, and turned away from the man, walking steadily towards the car at the edge of the property. He opened the backseat, hustled the kids inside, and got into the driver's seat. He glanced at Flack, crouched down in the passenger's seat.

"Thank you," Flack whispered.

"Not now," Danny responded hollowly, and gunned the engine. The car tore away from the vacant lot. Danny couldn't tear his eyes from the rear-view mirror, watching the car holding his wife recede into the distance.

* * *

"Daddy," Kieran shrieked happily. Flack leaned over the center divider and pulled Kieran into his lap, hugging him tightly. He wiped his drying tears on Kieran's hair, kissing his head and thanking God that he was there with him. Kieran clutched at Flack's arms, his little fingers digging into Flack's coat.

"Are you OK? He hurt you?" Don asked, voice pained.

"No," Kieran said, "but I hurt my arm," he said solemnly. Flack touched the long graze on Kieran's arm, checking it over.

"We'll take you guys to the hospital first, OK?" he suggested, "Danny? Hospital?"

"I'm goin'." Danny said distractedly.

"Daddy?" Jilly asked.

"Yeah, sweetheart," Danny said, focusing on driving to the hospital.

"He said to give you this." She wiggled forwards and handed a glossy photo to the front seat. Flack took it, his eyes widening.

"Danny," he said quietly, "it's him."

"What's who," Danny grunted.

Flack handed Danny the photo. The car screeched to a stop. Jilly uttered a high-pitched "oof," while Kieran settled for a low "ow."

"The man who's been killing the Women in the Park," Danny said dully, ignoring the honking horns around him, "He's going to kill her. We have three days before he kills her."

"Danny," Flack murmured, "Focus on the kids. Not this. The kids need help."

Danny gave no sign of movement, staring sadly at the picture of Lindsay, from the neck up, holding a recent copy of the NY Times. Her eyes were blindfolded, and a bruise circled her cheekbone. Danny's finger softly stroked the mark, attempting to ease it away. He brought the picture closer to his eyes, squinting at it, angry that it became only a bright patch of colored pixels, and not his living, breathing wife.

"Danny," Flack said softly.

Danny laid the picture down on the center console and pressed his foot to the gas, screeching off towards the hospital.


	14. Chapter 14

"He needs to sleep," Mac said, watching Danny through the glass. Danny was processing a footprint found at the piano warehouse when he and Hawkes had returned there after dropping the kids and Flack off at the hospital.

"Can you blame him?" Stella asked sadly. She sighed and turned to the file she was holding in her hand. "There's just so little to work with," she explained to Mac, "This guy's really good."

"The divers should be coming in soon. They retrieved Lindsay's phone. We'll see if we can't get something from it."

"Doubtful," Stella said, "Danny said the kidnapper was wearing gloves at the warehouse. I'll bet the kids will say the same thing about when they were being held. This guy covers his tracks, Mac. No way he'd leave something on a cell phone." She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and bit her lower lip fiercely.

"Just keep working the evidence," Mac said, "It's all we can really do."

* * *

"Danny!" Adam called from the end of the hallway in the crime lab. Danny turned abruptly around, a box of evidence from Meredith Stein's case, one of the Women in the park.

"I'm busy, Adam," Danny said shortly.

"You need to see this. It's about the case," Adam said. He jogged over to Danny, walking next to him. "Do you remember that little piece of glass you found on the first case? Evelyn –"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember; so?"

"Well, I was running it through the system, and it turns out it was infused with little bits of iron, which gave it that sparkly, metal look, really making it stick –"

"Adam," Danny interrupted, "Get on with it."

"Well, I matched it to a jewelry company. They used it in a bunch of different rings, bracelets, and other stuff, but they also made a cross necklace."

"So?"

"So …" Adam pulled out a photograph from the file he was holding, pointing to the picture. It was an image of the first victim, specifically, the cross-shaped bruise below her collarbone. "He was probably wearing it when he … you know. Violated her."

"Big deal. He wears jewelry."

"Danny, it's a specific design. Very expensive. You have to order it online."

Danny's head snapped towards Adam. He stopped walking. "You got a name?"

Adam's face fell slightly, knowing he would have to break the desperately hopeful look on Danny's face. "Well, I got a list. I'm having Angell run them through the system –"

"How many?" Danny snapped.

"Um," Adam gulped, "Around a hundred and fifty."

Danny turned around and continued to walk down the hallway. "Let me know when you have _real_ results," he shouted over his shoulder.

* * *

Lindsay sat in the basement with her knees up near her stomach. She felt better knowing that something was blocking the baby from the cold air. Not that it mattered. She knew that. But she figured she needed all the comfort she could get. And being in a cold, dark room, not being able to see more than three inches in front of her face, she was immensely happy to know that she was not alone.

Forcing herself to ignore her situation, she thought about names for the baby. It was wonderful to have a future to think about. _Emily? Max? Benny? Lillian? _She smiled weakly. _Lillian and Jillian. _The idea of the two of them in any situation together was laughable. And laugh she did. She let out a small laugh, and was surprised at the sound. It was hoarse and edged with a throaty cough. A hack.

She was surprised to hear the sound; although, thinking it through, it was understandable. She'd been choked so badly nearly an hour before that she'd passed out. Her neck was still sore as hell, and she wasn't sure if she could talk very well.

She moved her bound hands slightly, bending her elbows so the strain between her shoulder blades eased up.

A slight nausea crept up in her stomach.

"No, not now, baby," Lindsay rasped. It hurt to speak, but it felt good to have someone to talk to. She scooted her legs further into her stomach, hoping to ease the nausea. She leaned her head against the wall. The nausea increased with each move she made.

"Please," she rasped. She found it mildly amusing that, after being tortured for the past six hours, the only thing on her mind was how gross it would be to throw up. She couldn't get it off her mind, though. To relieve the feeling, she pretended that she was in her own bathroom, with Danny by her side, holding a cool cloth to her forehead and smoothing her hair from the sides of her face. He would be kissing her temple, rubbing her back with one strong, large hand while the other worked its way around her body to give her a soft hug. Under no circumstances would he let her sit on the cold, moldy floor of a basement long forgotten and speckled with other women's blood.

The door to the basement slammed open. Lindsay squinted at the silhouette in the bright, burning, artificial light from the hallway. The man stepped forwards, and, with a snap of leather, pulled on his gloves.

Lindsay winced.

* * *

Jilly woke with a start, a deep gasp of air. She looked around nervously, finally fixing her gaze on the huddled lump of blankets in the bed next to her. She carefully rolled out of bed, her feet hitting the linoleum floor of the hospital. She padded over to Kieran's bed and carefully moved the blanket away from his face.

His skin glowed in the moonlight trailing in through the window, his freckles splattered across his nose. Screwing up her face in concentration, Jilly carefully reached out and pinched his little nose, holding it closed.

Kieran snorted loudly, coughed, and opened his eyes. His bright blue eyes peeked from half-lidded sockets. "Gmph," he said eloquently.

"Kieran," Jilly whispered, "Wake up."

"Leggo by nose," Kieran said, sleepily swatting her hand away.

Jilly complied, un-pinching his little nose. She crossed her arms on his bed and rested her chin on her hands. "I had a bad dream," she said.

Kieran grunted, his eyelids flickering shut.

Jilly lightly slapped his arm. "Wake up," she whined.

"I'm awake," he moaned, trying to bury his face into the pillow.

"Scoot over," Jilly commanded.

Kieran did so, grunting all the way. He scooted over to one half of his bed. Jilly clambered onto it, wiggling into the warm spot he'd left behind. She rested her head on the other half of the pillow and opened her eyes. "Kieran?"

"What?" he grumbled sleepily.

"Are you still scared?"

"No. Daddy's right outside."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No."

"My daddy's not here," Jilly said. It was a fact, and she said it as such, but there was a hint of regret, a hint of fear in her voice.

"He's looking for your mommy," Kieran reminded her sleepily, "that's what he said, remember?"

"I know," Jilly sighed.

"Go to sleep," Kieran suggested.

"OK," she agreed. She let her eyelids flicker shut, but her body refused to go to sleep. No matter how much she tossed and turned, adjusted her feet, counted sheep, nothing worked. Finally, she flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling, frowning.

The door to the room slowly opened with a whisper of air.

"I'm just sayin', he shoulda come," Flack was saying, "It's his stepson."

"Don, stop it," Paulina hissed back to him.

Jilly tilted her head to look at them. The two were framed in the doorway, Don's arm holding the door open, Paulina's arms crossed in front of her.

"He's worried, but he has to work," she said to him.

"I don't give a damn," Don said angrily, "I don't want my son living with a guy who can't bother to show a little bit of compassion when his stepson goes missing. It's sick and it's –"

"Just stop it, for God's sake, Don; he's my husband."

Don snorted.

Paulina rolled her eyes, finally landing her vision on Jilly's empty bed. "Jilly?" she asked, walking towards the bed.

"I had a nightmare," Jilly said from Kieran's bed.

Paulina finally saw her, lying next to Kieran. She knelt by the edge of the bed. "About what?" she asked.

Jilly shrugged, pouting.

"You know," Paulina said, softly touching Jilly's forehead, "There's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Jilly's eyes started to water slightly. "But my mommy and daddy aren't here," she whispered.

"You don't have to worry about that," Paulina said gently, "They're going to be home before you know it, and this will be all over."

"Are you sure?" Jilly asked, a tear slipping from her eye.

"_I'm_ sure," Don said from the doorway.

Paulina threw a smile back at him, then gently lifted Jilly up and sat down on the bed next to Kieran with the little girl in her lap. Jilly stuck her thumb in her mouth and rested her head on Paulina's chest. Paulina scratched her head affectionately, hugging her. "When Kieran was three," she said, her voice quiet and soothing, "He used to wake up crying all the time. And you know what put him to sleep?"

"What?" Jilly asked around her thumb, her voice muffled.

"I spy. He used to love that game."

Jilly giggled. "Really?"

"Did not," Kieran mumbled from next to Paulina.

"Like you remember. You were a baby," Paulina chuckled.

Kieran opened his eyes a crack and snuggled up to his mother's side. "I only sorta remember."

Paulie wrapped an arm around her son and turned to Jilly. "You want to play?"

Jilly nodded and popped her thumb out of her mouth. "I spy," she started, "with my little eye, something gold."

Paulina squinted around the room. "That's a hard one. The sun in the picture on the wall?" She guessed.

Jilly shook her head.

"Your hair?" Paulina asked, tugging softly on the ends of one of Jilly's curls.

"Nope," Jilly said.

"_My_ hair?" Paulina suggested.

"No," Jilly giggled, her eyes starting to droop.

"Daddy's badge," Kieran jumped in.

Don, leaning on the wall near the door, glanced down to his belt, where his badge was peeking out of his sport coat, glinting subtly in the light from the hallway.

"Uh-huh," Jilly said, her eyelids becoming heavy.

"My turn," Paulina said. "I spy, with my little eye, something red."

"Hmm," Jilly said sleepily, unable to open her eyes.

"I think you're losing your teammates," Don said in a low whisper of a baritone.

Paulina shrugged, stroking Jilly's hair lightly. She shifted back slightly, moving to a more supine position so the kids were horizontal as well. Jilly popped her thumb back into her mouth, sucking lazily. Kieran buried his head into Paulina's side, finally able to rest in the quiet.

"I'm gonna go back to guard duty," Don said, "But soon I gotta get back to the precinct and follow up on some stuff."

"Is someone going to be…" Paulina gulped, "Guarding the door –"

Don smiled. "I wouldn't leave you guys alone. I'm gonna go when Stella gets here to process the kids, and then an officer'll take over. They're safe."

"Good," Paulina said, visibly relaxing.

* * *

Hawkes walked into the trace lab, holding q-tips with blood found on Kieran's arm. He hoped that something in the wound would indicate where the van came from, or had been.

The first thing to strike his eye was Danny, hunched over next to the mass spectrometer, chin in his hands. He seemed to be hypnotized by the light whirring and beeping of the machine.

"Danny?"

"Watcha got? Somethin' new?" he asked groggily, looking up at Sheldon.

"Danny, it's nearly midnight. You have to go home," Sheldon said, cutting off the tip of the q-tip and dropping it into a tube of sterile water.

Danny ignored him and watched the mass spec again, waiting for the signal that it was done.

"Or at least go see Jilly. Stella said she was asking for you."

Danny grunted and took out the scrap of fabric he'd had in the mass spec.

"She's your daughter," Sheldon said, his voice raising, "And she's scared and she wants you to be with her, to tell her it's going to be all ri-"

"Quit it, Sheldon, I ain't got time for any 'a that," Danny grunted.

Sheldon's mouth formed into a straight line, a grimace. "That's a lie," he said firmly.

Danny took the recently printed paper from the printer, glared at Hawkes, and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the hallway.

"Danny!" Mac called out from the other end of the hallway.

Sheldon watched intently as Mac and Danny fought for a moment, trading harsh words back and forth. Danny began to beg, shaking his head. Mac took the paper from Danny's hands and marched back into the trace lab.

"Now," he shouted at Danny, "Or I'll have security escort you out!"

He slammed open the glass door and looked at Sheldon.

"You sent him home?" Sheldon asked.

"I hope it worked," Mac muttered.

The two watched out of the corner of their eyes as Danny stood in the hallway, hands in his pockets, looking lost and confused. Finally, slowly, he took a step towards the elevators, and headed off, his head down.


	15. Chapter 15

Danny and Flack walked into the hospital together. Danny had heavy dark circles under his eyes; Flack's hair was going every which way from the times he'd run his hand through it. They opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator, deeming it too long a wait. They jogged up the stairs in silence, the echoing pounding of their shoes on the steps the only sound. To Danny, the sound was taunting, empty. He hated himself for taking a break. He hated the man who did this, whoever the hell he was, and, though he regretted feeling so, he hated Jilly. Every time he looked at her, he couldn't help but think for a brief moment that if she hadn't been there, he would have been able to get Lindsay out. He knew his logic was backwards, he knew it wasn't the truth. He loved his daughter more than anything in the world, but a sneaky, hissing voice in his head told him that if she weren't there, then he and Lindsay would be lying in bed together, safe, warm, and happy.

Once they reached the guarded room, Flack opened it slowly, peeking in first. He grinned. Danny nodded to one of the officers standing at the door and walked in after Flack.

Paulina was sitting on Kieran's bed, her back pillowed against the headboard, Kieran tucked tightly into her side. Jilly was lying with her head in Paulina's lap as Paulina slowly ran her fingers through Jilly's hair.

"She had another nightmare," Paulie whispered to Danny and Flack.

"Thanks," Danny said dully.

Paulina continued to stroke Jilly's hair, working out the knots in her curls. The children were both dressed in pajamas, which Stella had bought for them with her own money at a store down the street, feeling awful that she had to take Jilly's favorite lime green hat away for processing.

"Did Stella come by to process them?" Don asked quietly.

Paulina nodded. "A doctor checked both of them out afterwards. Kieran's fine besides the cut on his arm." She touched it lightly with the tips of her fingers, grazing the gauze around his lower arm. "Jillian had a few scratches on her legs."

"So she's fine?" Danny asked, his eyes glossy and staring out the window into the dark night.

"Yes," Paulina murmured. Jilly gave a light moan and adjusted herself slightly. Paulina soothed her by cupping her cheek. Looking back up to Danny and Flack, she whispered, "They said these two could go home."

Danny gave no response, still staring out the window at the night. He wondered if Lindsay was awake. He hoped she was sleeping, considering it was nearly three in the morning. He hoped she was _safe_ and sleeping. And warm.

"Danny," Flack said, nudging Danny's shoulder. "Wanna grab Jilly?" he said.

"Yeah, I got her," he said distractedly, and walked over to the bed. He lifted her with none of his usual tenderness, scooping her up and walking out of the room. "I'll see you tomorrow," he added over his shoulder.

He walked down the hall, again hearing his loud, echoing footsteps. He frowned and stomped into the elevator, which had thankfully arrived just as he got to it. He stepped inside and hoisted Jilly onto one arm while he smacked the button for the ground floor.

He returned both of his arms roughly to support Jilly's body, listening to the light beep the elevator gave as it hit each floor. He willed it to go faster. How could four floors take so long? He could have just taken the stairs.

Suddenly, Jilly shifted slightly in Danny's arms, bringing her own arms up to his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. She cuddled into his body, her cheeks sticky with dried tears. Still sleeping, she whimpered softly.

Danny looked down at her. She whimpered again, and brought her thumb up to her little red lips and sucked on it, frowning. Her hair tickled his neck as she tucked her head under the side of his chin.

Danny's breath caught in his chest as he thought back to the first day he'd ever really seen her on the grainy black and white screen at one of Lindsay's doctor appointments. Her thumb had been firmly planted in her mouth. The aging, bearded doctor had frowned, staring at the screen.

"Horrible habit," he'd said, "My son didn't stop until he was twelve. Ruins the teeth, the speech …"

Lindsay had laughed and had lightly touched the side of her stomach. "I like it," she'd smiled.

Danny was filled with the first emotion he'd had regarding his daughter, one that hadn't ever really left him: a thick, heavy coat of protectiveness that made him want to smack the stupid old doctor in the face for calling even one aspect of _his _little girl 'nasty.' As he'd turned back to the screen, he'd smiled and wondered if you could love an image grainy ultrasound more than you'd ever loved anything in your life.

Holding his daughter, nearly six years since that day, he leaned back against the wall of the elevator and slid down the wall, tears dripping from his eyes. He made no sound besides a labored, pained breath as he softly hugged Jilly to his chest. Her free hand reached up to clutch the edge of his winter jacket.

Danny gave a watery chuckle and hugged her tightly. The doors swung open, revealing an empty hallway. He made no move to get up, instead sitting on the floor, holding Jilly in his arms, waiting until he had the strength to stop crying.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to Jilly's hair.

She gave no response, merely continued sleeping, completely oblivious to his recently vacated anger.

When Danny found the ability to stand up and walk out into the hallway, her eyes flickered open. "Daddy?" she asked hoarsely.

"Hey, sweetheart," he responded, his voice tired from the pendulum of emotions he'd been subjected to that day.

"Do you have to go away again?" she asked, hugging him tighter.

"No, honey," he promised, "I'll stick around this time."

Jilly smiled as he pulled his jacket around her and exited the hospital into the cold, winter air.

* * *

"Careful," Paulina whispered as Don lifted Kieran from the hospital cot. Kieran was wearing soft green plaid pajamas that Stella had generously bought him, and was wrapped in Don's long, black jacket for warmth. Don threw Paulina a look that said, _of course I'm careful, _and gently placed Kieran's head on his broad shoulder, cradling the small boy.

"I'm taking him tonight," Don said, "it's safer at my place."

Paulina winced, saying nothing but looking pleadingly at Don's face. She knew it was true, but had no desire to spend a second away from her son. Don lived in an apartment with a front door that actually locked correctly, unlike Paulina's, and she was fairly certain that his downstairs neighbor hadn't been arrested recently for armed robbery, like hers had. "I …" she started, then swallowed. "I need him, Donnie."

"Come stay with me," Don suggested, "I'll take the couch. I was gonna anyways – it's closer to the door, just in case."

Paulina hesitated, then nodded. "Thanks," she said, reaching up a hand to rub Kieran's back gently.

* * *

Danny woke from a surprisingly good sleep the next morning. Stretching, his hand came into contact with a soft head of hair. He struggled to his elbows and glanced over at the other end of the bed. Jilly was curled neatly on Lindsay's pillow, one arm wrapped around it in a hug, her thumb in her mouth.

He smiled and rolled out of bed. He took off the clothes he'd fallen asleep in and threw on a thermal gray t-shirt and jeans. Picking up his phone, he called Mac immediately.

"_Nothing," Mac said as soon as he picked up._

"You got nothing?" Danny asked quickly.

"_Danny, it's nine thirty in the morning. Don told me you didn't get home until four. You need to sleep in."_

"Just let me know what you got on the kidnapper." Danny stumbled into the bathroom as Mac reviewed the cases they'd been working on for the past two weeks, telling Danny that all they'd uncovered was that the man was holding the women in some area with mold, that wrists were bound with some type of wire.

"And?" Danny asked, squirting toothpaste on his toothbrush and brushing his teeth quickly.

"_Thanks to Jilly and Kieran's statements and the evidence Stella collected, we've been able to determine that he held the three of them in a house somewhere near a fast food restaurant, judging by the chemical grease on the soles of their shoes. Kieran remembers a billboard advertising real estate, Jilly remembers hearing lots of cars."_

Danny spit in the sink and rinsed his mouth out. "So, near a busy street maybe, or a highway."

"_Adam's trying to narrow it down based on the billboard Kieran described, and Stella and Hawkes are looking over the children's clothing again."_

"I'll be there in ten."

"_Danny, you need to stay with Jilly –"_

"Don't bother, Mac, I'm comin' in no matter what you say. Jilly's coming, too. I'll put her in my office while I go over the cases," Danny said calmly. He hung up and walked into the bedroom.

"Daddy?" Jilly asked sleepily, sitting up, her curls tousled.

"C'mon, sweetheart, we got lots of things to do today. You're comin' in to work with me today._"_

"OK," she said, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands.

Danny walked over to the bed and swept her up, carrying her into her room. He helped her take off the royal purple and turquoise striped pajamas that Stella had bought for her the night before. As she yawned and weakly helped him, Danny changed her into her warm, bright blue woolen tights and a denim skirt, bundling her up in a long-sleeved t-shirt and a heavy, knit black sweater.

"Warm?" he asked.

She nodded sleepily.

"Tired?"

Another lazy nod.

He lifted her up, picking up her snow boots with his other hand. "Go back to sleep. You need it."

She rested her head on his shoulder as he jogged out of the apartment, locking it tightly behind him.

"I'm hungry," she muttered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"We'll get food later. Get some sleep now, JJ."

She gave a small giggle at her nickname and rested her head on his shoulder as he jogged down the stairs and walked towards the car.

"Is mommy coming home today?" Jilly asked, her voice betraying a hint of hopefulness and excitement.

Danny's voice caught in his throat. He didn't answer as he opened the car door and sat Jilly down in the car seat, buckling her in. Finally, he said, "Soon," his own voice showing some of Jilly's hopefulness. The truth was, he was ready to do whatever he could to get Lindsay home that night. He knew he had a short timeline. She'd been gone for a day and a half already. Timeline was half-way done. With the rate the women were being killed, though, he knew he had less. Not to mention the pressure being placed on the kidnapper with the cops involved already.

* * *

Later that day, Jilly sat on Lindsay's desk, her feet resting on Danny's knees as she faced him, watching Finding Nemo on Lindsay's ipod. She was wearing Lindsay's gigantic earphones, huge black ones that were much too big for her. Lindsay had insisted that the small, bud-like earphones were going to render Jillian deaf by the time she turned twelve. Jillian did not laugh at the screen, though it did lighten her mood slightly to watch the cartoon characters sing and dance around.

Danny sat on his chair reading Evelyn Watson's file, occasionally glancing up to make sure Jillian was still there, though he knew she would be. He highlighted something now and then, hoping to see where Evelyn had been taken from, and therefore sketch out an area where the kidnapper might be.

"Daddy?" Jilly asked, jabbing the pause button with her index finger.

Danny looked up to see Jilly tug the earphones off of her ears, setting them around her neck. "Hmm?" he asked.

"I'm hungry."

Danny checked his watch. It was almost ten o'clock at night. Had he really spent over twelve hours working with Jilly sitting patiently by him? He'd been feeding her snacks from the vending machines, but she looked impossibly tired and confused.

"We'll go get some food, then," he said, standing up. He stretched, then placed the file on his desk and lifted Jilly up onto his hip. She let herself be limp as she rested on his side, sticking her thumb in her mouth and leaning her head on his shoulder.

They met Hawkes and Mac almost immediately after opening the door.

Mac's eyebrows stretched up into his hairline. "No," he said, "Please tell me you're not here."

Danny shrugged.

"Hawkes," Mac said, turning to Sheldon, "Take them home. Now. Danny, you aren't driving on five hours of sleep in the past twenty four hours."

"Sure," Sheldon said, holding out his hand for Danny's keys.

Danny grudgingly handed them over, almost too tired to argue.

"And Sheldon?" Mac called as he watched the two men walk towards the elevator.

Sheldon and Danny turned.

"Stay the night," Mac said firmly.

"C'mon, Mac," Danny said, temper rising, "I can take care of my own kid –"

"It's not for Jilly," Mac said firmly, "And I'm not taking no for an answer."

Danny sighed but consented, turning towards the elevators. "I ain't sharin' no bed with you, man, no offense," he grumbled.

Sheldon's bark of laughter bounced off the walls of the hallway.

* * *

Lindsay squeezed her eyes shut. _This is it, _she thought, _I'm going to die right here. In the freezing cold, with no shoes on. I couldn't at least go with my boots on? I'm a cowgirl, aren't I? _"My boots," she breathed mournfully into the cold wind.

"Shut up," Griffin said, holding the gun to the back of her head. "Take off the shirt."

"No," she wheezed pitifully.

"Take the shirt off," Griffin said, smacking her with the butt of the gun. Lindsay dropped to the ground. She curled tightly into the thin t-shirt, feeling the snow begin to melt around her body. Slowly, she stood, pushing herself up off the cold snow.

The gun returned to the back of her head.

Lindsay slowly opened her eyes again, staring straight ahead of her. _Goodbye, Jilly, _she thought sadly, _my little girl, I'll miss you so much. _She gently brought her arms up to the bottom of her thin t-shirt, ready to lift it. _Goodbye Danny, I love you. I love you both._ As she closed her eyes lightly, a thought stuck in her memory. Danny, fighting tooth and nail on the day he was taken hostage years ago. _I couldn't live without seeing you again, _he'd admitted to her later as he spit blood into the sink and bandaged his broken hand.

Lindsay's eyes snapped open. _I can do this, _she thought forcefully, a steady fire burning in her stomach. Without warning, she whirled around, smacking the gun and the lead pipe out of Griffin's hands. He tumbled backwards, hitting his head on a rock on the ground.

Lindsay took off at a sprint, ignoring the fierce, brutal pain of what might be a broken leg. Her bruises ached and screamed for her to stop, yet she paid them no mind. All she could think about was Jilly's cherubic face, Danny's soft, patient hands, his crooked smile.

She heard a strangled moan and a yell behind her, and ran faster, speeding through the park despite her broken leg. After nearly ten minutes of hurried, lost, panicked running, her leg gave out. Lindsay tumbled into the snowy, dead bushes along the side of the path. She winced and flinched as they whipped at her bruises.

Holding in a pained yell, she wiggled into the freezing ground underneath the bushes, hiding herself in their twisty branches. She willed herself to be entirely quiet. She held her breath, stilled her body, and concentrated on being a bush, being a statue, being stone.

She heard the echoing, slapping footsteps as Griffin ran down the path. They sounded louder and louder, never slowing, as he raced closer and closer towards her.

_Please, _she thought fiercely, _please just pass me. Please don't look to the bushes._

The footsteps sounded closer and closer, never pausing, and raced right past her. She could see his laces tapping the snow, even amidst the dusky dark.

The footsteps raced past her, echoing off into the distance.

Lindsay waited, completely still, holding her breath, only allowing her pupils to search the deserted park. Her eyes caught something shiny, and, being Jilly's mother at heart, locked on it. It was a round coin, a quarter, lying on the ground a few feet ahead of her.


	16. Chapter 16

_So here's a kind of really long one. Hope you guys don't get bored :)_

* * *

Lindsay carefully sat down on the bench at the park. She set her leg in front of her and set the branch she'd pulled from the ground on her side. Leaning back against the side of the bench, she groaned loudly and set her broken leg along the bench. She was absolutely freezing – the thin t-shirt she wore over her underclothes did nothing against the biting wind.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself, "It will only hurt for a little bit," she promised. She carefully ripped two strips of fabric from the t-shirt, shivering as the air touched the now-bare skin of her mid-section. She set the long, straight branch alongside her leg and braced herself.

"One," she whispered, and leaned forwards over her leg. "Two." She held one strip in her hand, "Three," she grunted, and lifted the leg and slid the strip of cloth under it. With a breathy moan, she painfully tied the branch to her leg. Tears started in her eyes. She blinked them back, tilting her head towards the dark, cloudy sky and biting her lip hard.

"OK," she hissed through the pain, "It's over. It's over."

Readying her nerves, she heaved herself off the bench and hobbled further into the park, sticking to the side of the path in case she would have to hide. Her makeshift splint did little to ease the pain, but she told herself she would be worse off without it. She clasped the quarter she'd found in her hand, letting the cold bleed into her palm.

A pay phone appeared in the distance, and she hobbled quickly towards it. She dumped the quarter in the slot and dialed a number.

There was a click, which warmed her through to the bone, and a dial tone.

"_Hello?" _Danny asked groggily.

"Danny?" Lindsay whispered, "I need help."

* * *

Danny jogged through the park, his eye searching the foliage to his right and left for a sign of her. He finally spotted her, shivering and hanging desperately onto the side of the phone booth. He sprinted towards her, moving faster than he had in his life. He heard the wind rushing in his ears, practically deafening him. He saw nothing but her, though, in her ripped, short t-shirt. As she caught his gaze, she moved forwards with a slow, limping step.

She collapsed a few seconds too early, nearly dropping towards him, but he reached and grabbed her, holding her up and squeezing her tightly before he knew what he was doing. After a few minutes, he realized that he was softly speaking her name, over and over, whispering it to her hair, kissing it into her forehead, breathing it in and out.

She was silent in his arms, simply enjoying his warmth, his smell. Her hands were resting just below his shoulders, her head under his chin, in an embrace she could remember from years ago. He wrapped her into himself so tightly that her bruises stung and her cuts pleaded with her to let go. She ignored them fiercely, finding healing instead in Danny.

Finally, Danny eased his grip and backed up a little bit, glancing her over. "OK," he said, getting things in order, "OK." Carefully holding her with one arm, he slid his other arm out of his jacket then repeated the process, leaving himself in a long-sleeved shirt. He spun the jacket around her, enveloping her in his thick coat.

"We should go," Lindsay said hoarsely, keeping her voice low, "He's still in the park."

"Don't worry," Danny muttered, "Let 'im come. I won't let him hurt you anymore."

His statement served to flood Lindsay with a heavy, heavy tiredness. She became a dead weight in Danny's arms. He took a moment to gather his bearings, observing her, touching the deep gash at her hairline, his thumb brushing over the bruise on her cheek, and on down her body. He squinted at her leg, the splint she'd fashioned from a tree branch tied around it so tightly that he could see the skin around the straps was paler than her legs.

"Can we go home?" she asked, her eyes flickering closed.

"Honey, we gotta …" Danny swallowed, "We gotta get you to the hospital."

"No," she whispered, "He'll find me there."

"No one's gonna find you unless I say they can," he said, reaching for the near impossible to make her feel safe.

"No," she pleaded, her fingers clutching tighter to his shirt.

"How about I take you back to the car and check you out, and then we'll decide if we need to go to the hospital?" He touched her hair softly, smoothing it down. When he pulled his hand back, it was sticky with blood.

She nodded hesitantly into his shirt.

"Linds, I'm gonna lift you, OK?" he said gently.

"No," she pleaded, "I can walk."

"Please, Lindsay," he said softly, stroking her hair, "Your leg could be broken. I don't want it to get worse." He kissed her cheek tenderly. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up a little higher.

Danny bent his knees and slowly slid one arm under her knees before straightening up. Lindsay cried out in pain as he slowly lifted her up. He froze, holding her above the ground, yet not quite upright. "What, what hurts?" he asked.

"My leg," she whimpered, "It's just … just go. It's fine," she said, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping him tighter.

Danny winced at the pain he was causing her, watching her face contort in agony as he adjusted her in his arms. Finally, when her small form was cradled comfortably in his arms, he started off towards the car.

He tried to keep his upper-body movement to a minimum, frightened that he would jostle her around too much. Her face was buried in his neck, her breathing labored and pained. "Almost there," he promised, walking steadily towards the car, "Just hang on, Montana."

She smiled briefly against his skin. "I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you, too, baby," he said back.

When he got to the car, he expertly opened the door, barely moving her. "You ready?" he asked, "I'll be as careful as I can, honey, but it's gonna hurt."

He slid the chair back as far as it would go before slowly maneuvering her into the seat, carefully resting her hurt leg out in front of her. He started to methodically go through her assorted injuries, from the top of her head, to her neck, her torso, her legs, her bloody feet. There were places on her body where he couldn't tell what was skin and what was bruise – except for the glaringly white skin of her lower stomach. He trailed his fingers across it gently, wondering if the baby was still cuddled in her stomach. He glanced down lower at her underwear. The light blue panties were ripped at the top, and finger-shaped bruises stained the area above and around her hips.

He cleared his throat. He knew it would happen, didn't he? All the other victims were … "Linds, we gotta get you to a hospital." She turned her fearful eyes up to his and reached for him. He gently took the side of her face and kissed her forehead. "We gotta," he said, "I can't take care of you like this. A doctor needs to do it. We gotta check out the baby, honey."

At the mention of the baby, Lindsay eased back into her seat. She nodded defeatedly and let him close the car door.

He jogged over to the driver's side and got in. "You ready?"

She nodded.

He realized how pale her face was, saw how she was biting her lip so hard she drew blood. He reached his left hand out to her.

She looked down at it, face blank.

"Hold my hand," he said.

Not quite understanding, she took it in both her hands, holding it lightly.

"C'mon, we did this when Jilly was born," Danny smiled, "Show me how much it hurts."

She looked at him, the memory flooding back to her of sitting in the car, breathing loudly, his hand clasped in hers so tightly that she couldn't feel her own hand anymore, her pain coming in wave-like contractions.

"I remember," she said, closing her hands around his.

He started the car, zooming out into the street towards the hospital. She tightened her grip on his hand as they moved, squeezing with the light bumps of uneven pavement, mimicking the city street.

He muttered an apology after each bump.

He spun the car into the hospital, pulling up right in front of the emergency entrance. He tried to get out of the car, but her hands held him back. "Not yet," she hissed, riding out the pain through the anchor of his hand. He waited until her grip loosened before jumping out of the car and speaking rapid-fire to the doctor who stood near the hospital entrance.

* * *

Lindsay lay quietly on the hospital bed. She didn't dare make a sound. Something told her she was still with Griffin, lying on harsh ground, heavy breathing over her and squeaking gloves sounding through the air.

The doctors had had to sedate her, despite Danny's protests, but they'd promised that the medication would not affect the baby. She'd taken one look at the latex gloves the doctors were wearing and had freaked out, screaming and shouting and scrabbling at Danny, begging him to take her out of there. He'd spent close to an hour trying to calm her, holding her and asking her what was wrong. In the end, the doctors let Danny touch her for them, allowed him to sit with her and hold her while they examined her with only their eyes. The rape kit had been the worst, sitting with Danny smoothing her hair, promising her that it was almost over, that she had nothing to worry about and telling her that he loved her, over and over again. The only thing that had quieted her was when the OB/GYN soothingly informed her that the baby's heartbeat was strong and healthy.

For a while, they'd left the ultrasound machine in the room with Lindsay, letting the soft _whoosh-whoosh_ of the baby's heart soothe the hysterical woman while her husband had made the appropriate phone calls and had spoken with the nurses about Lindsay's condition.

Now, two hours after, as she lay sedated on her bed, her mind was wild. Her body was docile, but the medicine hadn't quite fixed the fears spinning across her thoughts. Griffin could be anywhere, hiding in the shadow at the corner of the room, lying under her bed, crouched outside the window on the ledge. She refused to itch her foot, refused to shake the hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. Eventually, she decided that Griffin would be able to see her stomach moving up and down as she breathed.

Calmly, slowly, she held her breath, forcing her body to be completely still. To her horror, a machine to her left started beeping frantically. Danny burst into the room, a nurse in tow.

Lindsay slowly let out the breath she was holding and looked up at them, ears turning pink.

"What happened?" Danny asked as the nurse began to check the machines.

"I held my breath," Lindsay explained, refusing to meet his eyes.

He looked at her, eyes searching for some sort of answer, then sat down on the side of her bed, wary of her leg. "Want me to sit with you?" he asked softly.

"I'm not crazy," she muttered to him.

"Nobody thinks that," Danny promised. He waited patiently, touching her arm and rubbing it softly. "I sent Flack for some clothes back at our place. He'll be here in a little while."

"Where's Jilly? Not at Flack's?" she asked worriedly, attempting to sit up.

"Woah, lie back down. Relax." He touched her hair, smoothing it down. "Hawkes has her. She's gonna stay the night at his place."

"Oh," Lindsay sighed, leaning back onto the pillows. She tilted her head, turning half her face into the pillow.

"Do you want me to lie down with you, or should I bring over a chair?" Danny asked.

She scooted towards the IV pole, allowing him room on one side of the bed. He carefully slid in next to her, adjusting her heavy plaster cast so she would be more comfortable. "You good?" he asked.

She winced and tried to move before biting her lip to rein in the pain.

"What hurts?" he asked, leaning over her body.

Tears of irritation and stinging pain started in her eyes. "I can't …" she whispered, "I can't turn onto my side and my back hurts when it touches the bed."

Danny remembered the expansive cuts and bruises on her back, the cigarette burns that dotted her upper arms. "Do you want my help?" he asked, "Or should I call a nurse?"

She shook her head, still biting her lower lip to keep in a scream. Danny slipped his hand into hers. She held it tightly, knowing that he wouldn't care if she broke every bone in his hand if it made her feel better.

He bent down and moved her arms out to the sides slightly. "I'm gonna lift you onto me, OK? You just let me know when I gotta stop. When it hurts."

She could do no more than nod.

He slipped his hands between her arms and her torso, bringing her into a hug. His arms barely touched her, instead lifting her by her armpits over onto his body. Using slow, carefully calculated movements, he scooted back down onto the bed, ending up lying down on his back with Lindsay halfway on top of him. "A'right," he said, "Now I'm gonna fix your cast." With the arm that wasn't holding her to his body, he reached down and carefully moved her broken leg between his own legs, creating a pillow for it with his calf. "How's that?" he asked.

"Better," she breathed. The bruises on her front were limited. It was only after the first, unbearable beating that she'd resorted to shrieking to Griffin that she was pregnant and he had to stop. The bruises on her stomach were only from that first day, when he didn't know. _It's just you that needs to be punished, _he'd shrugged, and had proceeded to flip a tied-up Lindsay onto her stomach on the mattress. Lying with Danny on the hospital cot, she shivered.

Danny tugged the blanket up over her body and carefully kissed the side of her face. "Maybe try to get some sleep, huh? Take advantage of that sedative."

"Do I have to talk about what happened?" she rasped.

"Don't think about that," he said, reaching his hand up to smooth her hair, "Just sleep."

"What if I don't wake up?" she asked hesitantly.

If it was an absurd question, Danny gave no sign of it. "You will. And I'll be right here." He softly caressed her hair until she fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

"Hi, mommy," Jilly whispered the next morning. Her voice bounced off the white walls of the room.

"Hi, Jilly," Lindsay smiled, reaching out a hand to her daughter. Jilly's eyes brightened and she took it and crawled up on the bed with Lindsay. Lindsay winced but ignored the slight sting of her bruises and shifted leg. "Come here, sweetheart," she smiled, pulling Jilly up to sit with her. Jilly leaned into her mother's side, nudging her curly-haired head right under Lindsay's arm.

"I missed you," Lindsay said, hugging Jilly to her side.

"Did the bad man go away?" Jilly asked hopefully, hugging her mother's midsection.

"Not yet, honey, but Daddy's looking for him."

"Did you get a cast?" Jilly asked, looking down Lindsay's body at the thick plaster on her leg.

"Yup," Lindsay said dully.

"Why did you get a boring color?" Jilly asked, frowning at the white expanse of Lindsay's leg, "I only got a Velcro one. Yours is better, mommy – you can draw on it." She thought for a moment. "Can I draw on yours?"

"Sure," Lindsay grinned.

Jilly slipped off the bed, causing Lindsay to wince again, and headed over to her backpack. She unzipped the front compartment and tugged out four markers in bright green, yellow, pink, and purple.

She walked back over to the bed and planted her hands on it, then pulled herself up.

Lindsay's leg shifted a bit. Lindsay closed her eyes and rode it out, squeezing the sheets.

"Jillian!" Danny yelled from the doorway, "Stop!" He marched over to the bed and harshly lifted Jilly off of it, setting her aside. "I said you could come if you followed all the rules! What do you think you're doing?" he berated, holding her by the shoulders.

"I didn't…" Jilly said, her eyes tearing up.

"Danny, I said it was OK," Lindsay said softly from the bed, "Don't yell at her."

Danny sighed and turned to Jilly. "Go wait outside." He walked over to the bed and re-adjusted the sheets, helping Lindsay get her foot onto a pillow. "You should be resting," he said firmly, fluffing up her pillows.

He reached out to brush her hair back. She flinched away. His hand faltered and he knelt by the bed. "Oh," he said, his voice suddenly deflated.

"Sorry," Lindsay whispered, "I'm just … still getting over it and … you know."

"Don't apologize. I get it," he said, touching her cheek gently.

"I mean, it's not you, it's just … you were yelling, and Griffin yelled, and I …"

"Griffin?" Danny asked, brow furrowed, "He had a name?"

Lindsay nodded. "Griffin."

"I'll get him," he vowed soothingly.

"I know you will." She took his hand and held it. "Now don't be stupid. Send Jilly back in here."

Danny grinned. "Yes, ma'am." He stood and led Jilly back in the room. He carefully lifted her up and set her on the bed, on Lindsay's better side.

* * *

"Yo, Adam!" Danny called, chasing after the nervous lab tech.

Adam turned around, looking at Danny in surprise. "Mac said you weren't allowed to be here," he said, stuttering, "he said you were banned until Lindsay was healed."

Danny ignored him. "You still got that sheet? With the names?"

"What sheet?" Adam asked, his eyes squinting at Danny in confusion. "Whose names?"

"The sheet with the guys who bought the cross. From the glass? At Evelyn Watson's crime scene?"

Adam's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, yeah!" He frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"Just get the damn sheet, Adam," Danny said, rolling his eyes.

* * *

After dropping the clothes off at the hospital, Flack trudged home, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. As he arrived back at his building, he looked up to notice that his window was glowing with light. Suddenly alert, he pulled his gun out of its holster and jogged into his building.

Leaning against the wall of his hallway, he slowly reached over to the door and noticed that it was open. He deftly turned the handle and shoved it open stepping into the room with his gun pointed in front of him.

"Don?" he heard Paulina say. She stepped out of the kitchen, a bowl of chocolaty mixture in her hands. She smiled sweetly, her bangs arranged over her forehead. She was wearing a thick, gigantic sweatshirt of his that dwarfed her small frame. "Hey!" she said, overly happy.

"What …" Don asked, putting his gun back in his holster, "What are you doing here? I thought you left this morning."

"Oh, well I …" her face fell a fraction, then brightened, "I made you some brownies," she offered, holding out the bowl. "Do you want to try some batter?"

He shook his head and dropped his badge on the little table near the door. He walked into the kitchen after her and pulled a beer from the fridge. "Is, uh, Kieran here, too?"

"Yes," she said, pouring the brownie batter into a greased pan. As she leaned forwards, her bangs fell forwards, and when she straightened, they curled lightly towards her ears, revealing a dark splotch of a bruise along the curve of her hairline.

Flack's beer bottle smashed to the ground, spraying glass and alcohol over the floor.

"Clumsy," Paulina laughed, lifting up a dishcloth. As she turned to look at him, she caught the stunned expression on his face. "What?" she giggled. As it hit her, her hand flew up to her bangs. She swept them back to cover the bruise and knelt on the ground, cleaning up the glass and beer.

"Stop," Flack said gently, kneeling down next to her, "it was my fault anyways." He took the rag from her hands and cleaned up the mess himself. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked conversationally, carefully picking up the glass and placing it in the trash.

"Nope, but it's not what you think," she said cheerfully, and proceeded to pick up a thick piece of glass and dump it in the trashcan.

"You take the bed tonight, OK?" Don requested.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," she smiled, her green eyes warming softly.

"I mean it," he said, "take the bed."

"We won't be staying long," she promised, her voice a whisper.

"Stay as long as you want," he said. _Forever, _he thought hopefully.

She laughed and stood, brushing off her apron. "Carl won't like that," she chuckled, "He'll worry."

"Who cares what that jackass thinks," Don said forcefully, chucking the rest of the mess into the trashcan. The glass slammed against the bottom of the can, clanking loudly. "He's a dick."

"Don't raise your voice," Paulina hissed, "Kieran's in bed."

"Well maybe he should hear this," Flack snarled, "'Cause I hold my tongue when he's around. I can't tell him how his step-dad is drunk every night, how I have to lock the guy up 'cause I don't want him coming home to _you _and laying his dirty good for nothing hands on your body and kissing you and –" Don stopped abruptly and bit back his words, breathing heavily and looking stunned at what he'd said.

Paulina stared at him slack-jawed.

"I'll set you up in my bedroom," Don said, breathing returning to normal.

"Donnie, I –"

"I've got extra stuff in the closet, some blankets and things 'cause it's cold at night."

"Don-"

"Just forget it, Paulie," he said firmly. "It's late."

Paulina watched him with soft eyes, refusing to let herself believe what he'd implied, because she couldn't help but think that a man who was living comfortably in his safe little world would prefer to stay that way – happy and safe with the status quo. It was nothing new for her, really, having done it before when she was pregnant with Kieran. And what would Donnie want with a nagging girlfriend, anyways? She only had to look at him to know he could do better.

"Thanks for letting us stay here," Paulina finally said. "We'll leave in the morning."

A quick flash of pain shot across Don's eyes, but he nodded anyways and turned away from her.


	17. Chapter 17

_Sorry, this is a little late. I've been busy with campaigning. To make up for it, it's extra long._

* * *

Jilly jumped happily on Hawkes' couch, giggling. "Can't catch me," she teased, "I'm too fast."

Hawkes dived for her, but she hopped out of the way. "Looks like you're right," Hawkes sighed dramatically, "you're just too fast." Jilly sat abruptly on the couch, landing bouncily on her bottom.

"Uncle Sheldon?"

"Yes?"

"Is mommy sick?"

"No, she's bruised and a little beaten up. She'll be fine, though, no need to worry." Sheldon stood up and went into his kitchen, picking up the plates from their dinner. He dumped them in the sink and threw away the empty cartons of Chinese food.

Jilly padded into the kitchen after him. "But why's she in the hospital?"

"The doctors need to make sure that she doesn't get more hurt. You saw her cast when you went to visit her, right?"

Jilly nodded.

"Well, what happened to her leg was that it was broken in three places. The doctors have to make sure that each of the breaks is healing correctly before your mommy can come home," Sheldon explained. He put the forks and plates into his dishwasher. "Now let's get you into bed, OK? Your daddy's going to be mad if you're tired tomorrow when he comes to pick you up."

Jilly put on her pajamas and climbed into Sheldon's guest bed, adorned with assorted stuffed animals that Jilly had packed with her. She hugged her favorite stuffed penguin, Groucho, and loudly kissed Elvis' fish tank, leaving a foggy lip print that the little goldfish glided over to investigate.

When Sheldon came in to tuck her in, she spoke up again. "Does plastic heal when you break it?"

"No," Sheldon chuckled.

"Does metal?"

"Nope."

"What about windows?"

"Nope."

"Then why do bones heal?"

Sheldon grinned and sat down on her bed. He pulled the covers up to her chin. "Bones are alive, just like you are. When the bone breaks, all sorts of little cells and blood vessels form right around the break and make it better again."

"Oh," Jilly said, hugging Groucho. "Does it hurt?"

"Not once it's healed," Sheldon assured her. "Did you brush your teeth?"

"Uh-huh."

"OK, then. Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning." He kissed her head and walked out, snapping off the light.

* * *

While Sheldon was putting Jilly to bed, Danny was trying to do the same with Lindsay.

"I'll be right here," he soothed, "It's going to be fine, honey."

"No," she said, shaking her head, "He'll come in the room while I'm sleeping and –"

"I would never let that happen," Danny reminded her. She clutched at his shirt when he sat down on her bed. He pulled her into his lap and let her hold tightly to him. "I'm right here."

"Please don't leave," she begged, "Don't go; don't leave." Her voice was tired and weak, nothing like her regular bubbly, happy tone.

"I won't," he promised. He kissed her temple. "I'm gonna move us under the covers, OK? Tell me the second something hurts."

She nodded and leaned against him as he scooted back onto the headboard, toed off his shoes, and brought the covers over the two of them. She was still sitting on his lap, her cast-covered leg sticking out towards the bedside table. She turned her torso towards him and cuddled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

"When are we going home?" she asked in a meek, child-like voice.

"In two days," he responded, rubbing her hip comfortingly.

"I want my mother," Lindsay said in the same, scared voice.

Danny had nothing to say to that. Lindsay's mother had died the year before their marriage, of lung cancer. He pulled her closer to his side and kissed her head. "I know you're scared," he murmured to her ear, "But I'm right here. Nothing will happen to you. I'm right here."

Slowly, her breathing evened and she relaxed in his arms.

* * *

"Carl, what are you doing?" Paulina hissed, creeping out of the bedroom. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and pulled it back into a quick bun. She squinted through the dark at Carl. He was sitting at the tiny, worn kitchen table, a dirty spoon in his hand, a belt around his forearm, and a needle on the table.

"Fuck off," he grunted groggily.

"Carl, what the _hell _are you doing?" she repeated, stepping closer. She glanced over at the small box next to him, packed with assorted drugs. "Carl." It was a mourning sort of whisper.

"Just go back to bed," he grunted. He closed his eyes and leaned back into his drug-induced haze. "Kid ain't even here. No big deal."

"You said you'd stop," she hissed, tears starting in her eyes, "You swore to me it was over. That's why we moved back, Carl – you said it was a new life. You promised."

Carl lifted his head up and glared at her. "People break promises."

She couldn't help but think that there were people who didn't, people who knew it was worth it to try than to give up, who fought for the people they loved. And, looking into Carl's droopy eyes, all she could see was emptiness.

* * *

Don jogged up the steps in the hospital the next morning, Kieran on his back.

"Left!" Kieran shouted, tugging on Don's right arm. His NYPD beanie slipped down over his eyes as Don dramatically swerved to the right.

"You sure about these directions, K?" Don asked, reaching one hand back to scoot Kieran's bottom higher on his back. Kieran scrunched his freckled nose, thinking hard about where the hospital room was.

"No," Kieran finally giggled, hugging Don's neck tighter.

"Then I think I'm gonna fly solo for a little while," Don said, backing up to a bench and bending his knees until Kieran's little shoes hit the seat. He helped Kieran hop down from the bench and took his hand. He led his son to the left, towards Lindsay's room.

"Hey," Hawkes shouted from the other end of the hall. Jilly was set on his hip, her arm around his neck. She was wearing her navy jacket. Her legs were clothed in hot pink tights, and swung back and forth. Upon seeing Kieran and Don, she took her thumb out of her mouth.

"Kieran," she said happily.

Hawkes let her on the floor and let her run over to Kieran, her feet, bare but for the tights, slipping on the floor. "Careful," he cautioned.

"We were just comin' here to get her," Don grinned. He turned to look at Kieran and Jilly, who were playing an elaborate hand game on the floor. "Hey, K, let the girl check in with her ma for a sec," he said to his son. He placed a hand on Jilly's dark, honey curls. She tipped her head up to look at him.

"Go on in," Hawkes said, opening the door.

* * *

"Daddy!" Jilly stage-whispered, running to him. He stood from his seat next to Lindsay's bed and reached out to her. She sped towards him, only to be swept up and hoisted into the air like he used to do when she was a baby, her sides clasped by his strong hands. He kissed her forehead as he brought her back down to his chest.

"You have fun with Uncle Sheldon?" Danny asked, sitting back down with her in his arms. He hoped she wouldn't notice the dark circles under his eyes, the bruises on his fist from when he'd slammed the wall after hearing that a Griffin Morris had moved from his permanent address, and was currently in the wind.

Jilly nodded and took his dog tags, fiddling with them as she rested her head on his chest. "When are we going home?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he promised. "Uncle Don is gonna take you tonight while mommy and I get set up back home. Then we'll bring you back with us, OK?"

"OK," she sighed. "Is mommy awake?"

"I don't think so," he said. He lifted her up and walked over to the bed. Lindsay's head was resting on the pillow, slightly tilted towards the two of them. The bruise on her cheek was fading, and her back seemed to be bothering her less.

Sheldon creaked the door open and poked his head in. "Hey, Adam got some results on the trace on Lindsay's shirt, so I'm gonna head in," he whispered.

"A'right, man, thanks for taking her last night."

"No problem; she was great." He grinned, waved to Jilly and shut the door behind him.

Danny reached a hand down and brushed some hair out of Lindsay's eyes. His thumb strayed on her cheek, lightly caressing her skin. "Wanna give her a kiss?" Danny asked.

Jilly nodded.

Danny leaned in, holding her above Lindsay's body. Jilly pressed her lips to Lindsay's chin, the part of her face she could reach, and Danny pulled her back upright.

He hoisted her around his waist, and she wrapped her legs and arms around him. "We gotta talk about somethin', JJ," he said.

She nodded.

He walked over and sat down on the chair next to the bed. "OK, look, now I'm not sayin' this is ever goin' to happen again, but we need to talk about if it does."

"If what happens again?" Jilly asked, watching him curiously.

Danny sighed. He wasn't sure how to put it. "If anyone ever tries to … uh, take you. Do you know what to do?"

"Yell and scream," Jilly responded, taking his dog tags in her hand again. She clicked them together.

"Good," Danny said, "Is that what you did when the bad man took you, mommy, and Kieran?"

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. She grew intensely focused on the dog tags.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"I was scared," she said dully, "and mommy was hurt." She wiggled in Danny's grasp, accidentally jabbing him in the stomach with her knee. He held in the yelp as she snuggled up close to him. "Are you mad?" she asked, turning her face up to look at him.

"No," he said, smiling comfortingly at her, "Of course not. I ain't mad at you. I just wanna make sure you know what to do if something like it happens again."

"Is the bad man mad that we left?" she asked curiously.

"Don't worry about him," Danny said, kissing her head, "It ain't your problem. He isn't gonna come anywhere near you, Kieran, or mommy. Got it?"

She nodded and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

He glanced over at the clock, then at the door. "A'right, sweetheart, Uncle Don's gonna take you now. I've gotta get mommy's stuff together and get her home, OK?"

Jilly pouted, popping her thumb out of her mouth. "I want to go home with you and mommy," she said sadly.

"I'm sorry, JJ, but I've got to make sure mommy's settled in and focus on her tonight. Plus, I thought you liked going over to Kieran's house."

Jilly nodded reluctantly.

"Right, gimme a kiss," he said. She leaned forwards and pecked his cheek. "C'mon," he said, and lifted her onto the floor. He took her hand and walked her to the door. He opened it to find Kieran teaching a confused Don how to play the hand games Jilly had taught him the day before.

Jilly giggled and walked over to Kieran.

Don grinned at the two and walked over to Danny. "How's Linds?" he asked in a low voice.

Danny lifted one shoulder. "She ain't freaked out again."

"I'll take care of Jilly," Don promised, nodding over at the little honey-haired girl who had his son by both hands and was directing them about in exaggerated gestures.

"Yeah," Danny said, watching her, "Just be careful," he asked.

"'Course," Don vowed, and turned to the kids.

* * *

"Danny, would you just put me down," she said tiredly, too weak to wiggle from his grasp. She glanced out the window of their apartment, glad to be home, but angry that it had taken her so long to get there, and furious that Danny had been lecturing her for the past half-hour on her attempt to get into the car by herself.

"Can I at least get you to the bed?" he snapped, carrying her through the door of the apartment. He took her into the bedroom and laid her down with much more tenderness than she thought he would. "Do you want anything?" he asked, his voice softer.

"No," she said, glaring at him, "just peace and quiet."

"I have to stay with you," he reminded her harshly.

"Do it in another room," she huffed, and turned away from him.

As he left the room, he found himself wondering why she was so bitchy. He knew why, in his heart of hearts, but he couldn't help but think that she could be a little nicer. He stomped into the kitchen and pulled out a beer from the fridge. He popped off the top with a satisfying snap and sat heavily down at the small counter next to the kitchen. He took a swig of the beer and leaned forwards into his folded hands.

He was tired. He'd been up since early, hadn't slept in a while. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling how it stuck out all over his head.

* * *

She lay on the bed, a discarded bundle of covers and sheets. Or so she felt. She tried not to move again, lying completely still on the bed. She watched as the blankets moved with her breath, crinkling and straightening with each move of her chest. She slowed the breathing, allowed it to shallow out, until she finally stopped, holding her breath carefully. Her vision grew spottier the longer she led her breath, and the world slowly became fuzzier and fuzzier and made less and less sense until –

The door slammed open. She turned, expelling the breath and panting at the effort.

"Sorry," Danny said, embarrassed. He stared at her from his place in the doorframe. "I didn't mean to open it so quickly."

She turned away from the door, instead opting to face the window. She stared at the heavy clumps of snow falling from the sky.

"I just…" Danny started. He stopped. "Linds," he pleaded, "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't that loud," she said dully, speaking about the door slam.

"Not that. I'm sorry."

"Oh," she whispered. She buried her face in the pillow.

"For yelling. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she said, her voice airy and light.

He didn't buy it for a second. "It's Christmas Eve," he informed her.

"I know."

"Well, I want a present."

Lindsay smiled faintly, still refusing to look at him.

"And I'm gonna make it easy. I'll tell you what I want. You ain't even got to guess." He shifted in the doorframe, choosing to lean against the wall. He watched her back intently. "I want you to give me a hug."

Lindsay couldn't contain the laugh that slipped out of her mouth.

"No joke. I want a hug. The past few days have been really shitty," he continued, crossing his arms, "And I keep yelling at my wife, and she doesn't deserve it, and I think I need someone to give me a hug."

Lindsay turned slightly, looking at him. Her eyes brightened a little, opening wide and looking Danny intently in the eyes to see if he was kidding. She realized he wasn't.

He made no move as she slowly slipped out of the bed, wincing as her feet hit the cold floor. She limped towards him, never putting her weight on her cast for more than a minute or two. The walk was clunky, clumsy, and took her more than five minutes to get over to Danny. But she couldn't help loving him for letting her do it on her own, though she knew it was killing him to watch her.

When she got to him, she stood in front of him for a beat, her hands at her sides, searching his eyes. He straightened, coming off the side of the doorframe. He uncrossed his arms.

Slowly, carefully, she raised her arms and rested them on his shoulders, and neatly leaned into him, gently pressing her body to his.

Wary of her space, he loosely wrapped his own arms around her waist, holding them on her lower back, at the slight indent above her butt.

She rested her head on his shoulder, facing his neck, and paused. She'd forgotten how warm he was. His neck warmed her cool cheek, and she could feel the heat coming through his shirt.

Slowly, the hug became his to give, as she leaned more and more on his body, until eventually her legs were limp and his arms wrapped tighter and tighter around her body, holding her from falling. She hugged his neck to hold herself up, terrified suddenly of dropping to the ground.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs entirely with the musky, manly scent of him. She took another. And another. Her breath came quicker and quicker until she was panting, gasping for air.

"You're crying," he said softly.

"No," she whimpered.

He felt her cooling tears on his neck, heard her breath come in heaving pants and sobs. "It's OK to cry," he soothed.

"I'm not crying," she sobbed. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, pulling him closer to her body.

"How about," he suggested, running one hand through her hair softly, "you cry right now, and I won't tell anyone."

"Promise?" she sobbed into his neck.

"Yeah, I promise."

She surrendered to the crying then, grabbing at his coat and letting him hold her completely, rock her from side to side. He made no move to wipe the tears away, letting her cry them without pause, for he knew that it was the first time she'd cried since she'd been kidnapped.

As her tears slowed, she found herself speaking to him, explaining her thoughts to him.

"He's here," she was murmuring in his ear, "In my mind, he's here, Danny, he's everywhere, and I can't … I can't make myself stop thinking it. Every time anyone says anything, I think it's him, talking to me; when you touch me I think it's him; when I breathe, I know he can hear me. And I don't care what you say, I don't care what anyone says, Danny, I just can't stop thinking it."

He reached up a hand and smoothed her hair, knowing perfectly well that he could say very little. "I know you're scared," he whispered back, for what seemed like the thousandth time since she'd come home, "but I'm right here. And I'm not going to leave you, and I'm going to make sure he never comes near you again." He kissed her temple softly.

She choked out another sob and clung to him, desperately holding onto him as though he were all that kept her from drowning in tears.

* * *

"Daddy!" Jilly said excitedly, hopping down the steps of Flack's apartment building, skipping the clumps of snow in her stocking feet. She skipped the last two, leaping into Danny's arms instead. He caught her and swept her up, kissing her cheek loudly.

"Hey," Flack said, trailing out after her. He had her bag over his shoulder, "How's she doin'?" he asked.

"She's fine," Danny said carefully, reaching out a hand for the bag.

"The leg healin' OK?" Don asked, pulling his coat tighter around himself.

Danny shrugged. "Slow, but it's healin'." He glanced down at Jilly's socked feet. "She lose her shoes?" he asked, grinning.

Don shook his head and rolled his eyes. "They're in her bag. Genius over here," he said, pointing his thumb behind him at a curious Kieran, who was peeking around the door to the building, "Decided to challenge her to a snowball fight. Shoes are soaked through," he said regretfully, "I tried to warm 'em up near the heater, but no luck."

Danny laughed lightly, glancing at Kieran. "Who won?" he asked.

"Me, duh," Jilly said, wrapping her arms around Danny's neck.

"I shouldn'ta asked," Danny responded. He took the bag from Don and slung it over his shoulder. "Thanks for watching her," he called to Don, "We'll return the favor later, yeah?"

"Sure," Don called, and turned back to the opened door of the apartment, and a smiling Kieran. "Inside," he said, pointing at the staircase.

"Do _you _wanna have a snowball fight?" he asked excitedly.

"No," Flack grumbled, and chased Kieran up the stairs.

* * *

"So what were you thinkin'?" Danny scolded.

"I dunno," Jilly giggled, sensing that he wasn't entirely concerned. She wiggled into his body, resting her head on his shoulder and trying to bury herself in his unzipped jacket.

"Relax, relax, I got it," he said, and shifted her so he could properly wrap his jacket around part of her back.

He smirked as he felt her little, cold feet slip into his jacket pockets. She kicked her feet leisurely as Danny carried her to the car. He buckled her into her carseat before climbing into the front seat and pulling out into traffic.

"How was your sleepover?" he asked, shooting a quick glance into the rear view mirror.

"Fun," she said happily. She kicked her feet on the seat.

"So, JJ, your mommy and I got somethin' to tell you about."

"Daddy, look!" She said, pointing out the window at a woman wearing a cocktail dress that was completely covered in sequins. She pressed her nose to the glass and watched the dress move until a puff of exhalation from her nose clouded the window.

"JJ, I need you to listen."

"OK, daddy," she said, turning to look at his eyes in the rear view mirror.

Stopping at a red light, he glanced back. He knew it probably wasn't the right time to tell her; in fact, it was as far from the right time as could be. But he had to. "Jilly, do you remember when your friend Ryan had a baby brother?"

"Uh-huh," Jilly said, not catching on. She smiled her little cherubic smile at Danny.

"Well, in a couple of months –" He cleared his throat, unsure of how much to tell her. "In a few months, you're going to be a big sister."

Jilly's mouth popped open into a little 'o.' "Really?" she asked, bouncing in her car seat.

Danny grinned. "Really."

"OK," Jilly smiled. She sat in silence for a while, kicking her feet back and forth on the chair. "Can the baby sleep in my room?" she asked.

Danny chuckled. "We'll see. We'll figure it out."

* * *

"Here's his backpack," Don said, handing Paulina the bright Spiderman backpack.

Paulina nodded distractedly. She took the backpack and slung it over her shoulder, onto her navy blue sweater. She never met Don's eyes as she watched Kieran meticulously tie his shoes. She toyed with a hole in her sweater sleeve, near her thumb. Don watched her, frowning, his eyes squinted in concentration.

Once Kieran had finished, he hopped up and pulled on his heavy jacket. He walked over to his parents.

"Hey, buddy, wait outside for a sec," Don said, running a hand through Kieran's hair.

Kieran nodded and headed out the apartment. He plopped himself down by the staircase and took his gameboy out from his pocket.

"Everything OK?" Don asked, concerned. He bent in closer to Paulina.

She looked up at him, her eyes watery. She smiled through it, brushing at the tears with a short laugh. "Yes, I'm fine," she said, blinking furiously to rid herself of the forming tears. "Donnie, everything's fine."

Don snorted and reached up his hand in reflex to softly touch her cheek. He paused, holding it next to her face. "You sure? Sometimes it helps to talk it out."

She bit her lip, squinted at a spot somewhere past him, then flicked her eyes over to stare him in the eyes. "I'm thinking about leaving Carl," she said firmly.

Don's eyes widened. He fought the bright grin that threatened to spread across his face. "Why? I mean, great, but why?"

Paulina shrugged, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. "He's just … a couple of things. Our relationship hasn't been working since high school, really, and I just feel like I have to call it quits. And I think … I think it's going to get worse."

"Has he ever hit you?" Don asked frankly.

She shook her head, catching his gaze firmly. "Never. He's never done that."

"But he might," Don concluded, "You think he might."

Paulina shrugged. "I don't want to remember him that way. I just want it over."

"I'll help, you know," Don said, "I can help you get a lawyer, and if Carl doesn't want to sign it, I can convince him."

A tiny smile passed across Paulina's face. "Always the macho man," she chuckled.

Don grinned back. "I ain't gonna deny it," he said, and hugged her.

In his warm embrace, memories of their relationship flitted through Paulina's mind – the way his lips felt on hers, the way the tall, confident man grew shy as he reached for her hand to hold, the way he would touch her cheek after every kiss as though he hated to stop kissing her. And the last, bitter memory of sitting all by her lonesome on the stoop of an abortion clinic, her hands folded in her lap around a cell phone, wondering if she should change his life for ever, or let him live his young life free of binds.

"Just let me help. If you need it," Don said softly. He squeezed her shoulder and smiled as she walked out after Kieran.


	18. Chapter 18

"I don't want to go," Jilly said, her lower lip pouting heavily, "I want to stay home."

Lindsay sighed. She turned to her daughter, right next to her in the back seat, and hugged her to her side. "I know you don't want to go. Daddy doesn't either."

"Hey," Danny said from the driver's seat. He glanced at the two of them in the rear view mirror. "I heard that." He put his hand on Lindsay's cast, sitting up on the center console, and held it while he made a left turn so it wouldn't jostle.

"Don't pretend you do, Danny," Lindsay said piously.

"Yeah, Daddy, don't lie," Jilly chided.

"I can never win," Danny grunted.

Jilly stuck her thumb in her mouth and turned into Lindsay's side, burying her face in her mother's clothes. Lindsay's stomach had recently gained some pounds, and Jilly kind of liked it. She thought Lindsay looked funny with her skinny little body and her pudgy midsection.

"But grandma's mean," Jilly said sadly, her voice muffled and nearly intelligible as it rolled around her thumb.

"Tell me about it," Danny added from the front seat.

"Both of you, be nice," Lindsay said as Danny pulled up to his mother's building.

"Jilly, go get out on the sidewalk side," he said, and hopped out to help Lindsay climb out of the car.

* * *

"Oh, you poor, poor girl," Theresa Messer said, scurrying over to Lindsay, who was sitting contentedly in an exhausted Danny's arms. Danny set her down on the squishy easy chair and stood, stretching painfully.

"Ma, you gotta talk to the super about getting that elevator fixed. You're on the tenth floor, here," he groaned.

"Oh, you're always telling me what to do, aren't you, Daniel? Is there ever anything that goes right with you?" Theresa asked, throwing her hands up in the air and rolling her bright blue eyes up to the sky. "You have to learn to accept that – don't you walk away from me, Daniel, it's Christmas and you had better listen to your mother – you get away from that kitchen!"

Jilly hopped the last few steps into the worn, cozy apartment, one hand around Groucho, her stuffed penguin, the other hand at her mouth.

"Still sucking your thumb, are you my little treasure? Come here, take that out," Theresa said in a coddling, baby voice.

Jilly looked up at her, horrified, as Theresa pulled Jilly's thumb out of her mouth.

Theresa then proceeded to give Jilly a long winded rant about how Louie had sucked his thumb for years and years and what did it get him? A lisp, that's what, so Jilly had better look out.

"You're scarin' her, ma," Danny sing-songed, and rescued Jilly by scooping her up into his arms.

Lindsay watched the scene with a half-smile on her face. Theresa sat down heavily on the chair next to Lindsay's and leaned in. She rested a warm hand on Lindsay's cast and smiled sweetly at her. "Oh, look at you, Lindsay, you look so _tired _– Danny, do you let this girl sleep? And look at her, she looks too thin for four months pregnant - you'd better be taking care of her, Daniel!" She shouted into the kitchen.

"Lay off, ma," Danny grunted from the kitchen, where he and Jilly were testing the sauces bubbling on the stove. But her comments sparked worry in him, so he set Jilly on the floor and went out to look at Lindsay to see what Theresa saw.

She looked a little thinner, he guessed, than when she'd been four months pregnant with Jilly, but he couldn't be sure. And she did look tired, but that could have been the fading bruises on her face, now green and pale. He rested the back of his hand to Lindsay's cheek.

"I'm fine," Lindsay laughed, taking Danny's hand from her face and holding it in her own.

"Now you just tell me what happened," Theresa said, leaning in towards her.

"Leave her alone, ma," Danny gasped, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling and shaking his head in incomprehension of her frank questioning.

"Shoo, Danny, get back into the kitchen. Your wife and I have to talk. There are things women know, and men don't –"

"Understand. I know," Danny finished, having heard the phrase come out of her mouth practically a million times before. But he left anyways, leaving Lindsay with a sympathetic caress on her arm and a kiss to her head.

When he came out an hour later, about to announce that dinner was ready, Lindsay was tearing up, telling Theresa the story. He backed slowly into the kitchen, accepting that sometimes Lindsay preferred a mother to a lover.

When they all ate around the tiny, wooden kitchen table, Theresa filled the room with chatter and easy noise that made them forget everything. Jilly swung her feet from her chair and watched with wide eyes as Theresa spoke entire paragraphs without taking a breath.

When they left, Theresa kissed each of them, spending an extra moment with Lindsay to whisper something in her ear. Lindsay's bottom lip trembled and she pulled Theresa in closer and hugged her tightly.

"Anytime, darling, I promise," Theresa said comfortingly, and kissed Lindsay's cheek again.

Danny glanced between the two, but said nothing. He lifted Lindsay up and carried her down the stairs.

"Jilly, be careful," he called down the steps as Jilly hopped down the staircase with her present from her grandmother, a pair of bright red, sparkly shoes, in one hand and Groucho in the other.

"I am careful," she giggled, and skipped down the steps.

Danny sighed and watched her intently, making sure that he could caution her before she tripped.

"That was nice," Lindsay murmured in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Are you tired?" he asked, unable to let go of what his mother had suggested. "'Cause if you are, you know, if you're havin' a hard time sleepin', then just let me know what I can do –"

She covered his mouth with her hand. "I'm fine, Danny," she chuckled.

He kissed her hand and shook it off with a grin.

She smiled and hugged his neck tighter and nuzzled his cheek. He held her body carefully, aware that each step jostled her bruises and her broken leg. When they got to the bottom of the staircase, Danny hesitated before setting her down. "You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," she said, looking at him with confusion in her eyes.

"'Cause I can just listen, if that's what you need," he said, finally putting her on the ground and opening the car doors for her and Jilly. He lifted Jilly into the car and shut the door behind her.

"Oh, I get to sit in the front this time?" Lindsay asked, mock excited.

Danny laughed and opened the door. He scooted the passenger seat back as far as it would go and helped Lindsay into the car. He fussed with her jacket and her seatbelt, making sure she was warm and comfortable. "Yep, you graduated to the big girl seat," he grinned. He kissed her warmly.

* * *

"Mrs. Messer, come on in," the principal said warmly.

Lindsay hobbled into the room on her crutches, glancing around at the other two faces in the room. She recognized Paulina's, the round, warm face framed by curly blonde hair. She sat heavily next to Paulie and threw her a questioning glance.

Paulina shrugged.

"Well, now that I have you all here," Mr. Reynolds said, smiling at all three parents sitting before him, "we can begin. Unfortunately, Bobby's parents couldn't come. But for all of you here, we have Paulina Hutchison, Kieran's mother," he gestured at Paulie, to the far left, "Lindsay Messer, Jillian's mother," he pointed at Lindsay, "And Everett Price, Henry's father."

Lindsay looked over to the surly man to her right. He was dressed in a business suit, and checked his watch angrily every five seconds. He had a tiny little pencil mustache, which contrasted sharply with his heavy, bulky frame.

"Well," Mr. Reynolds said, "Welcome. I'm sorry about the unfortunate circumstances…" He glanced in the direction of the school's main office, where the four children sat, nursing their cuts and bruises. "It seems all of your children were in a fight today. We're not sure who provoked the fight, not that that is necessary. What matters is that we have a strict no-fighting policy at our school."

Lindsay shrugged. She glanced over at Everett Price, who was picking at a loose thread on his jacket's button.

She glanced over at Paulina, who was looking at the principal with a look of horror on her face.

"We're going to have to suspend all of your children for the next three days. We hope you will speak to them about this incident privately. Thank you for coming in."

"That's it?" Everett asked dully.

"Yes, that's all," Mr. Reynolds said, the tip of his pointed, black beard quivering.

"Thanks then," Everett said, and extended a hand. Mr. Reynolds shook it firmly. Everett left the room, heading towards the main office. He motioned for his son, Henry, to follow him.

That left only Paulina and Lindsay. Lindsay's face portrayed one of confusion, while Paulina continued to stare at Mr. Reynolds in terror. "He fought?" Paulina asked sadly, "he fought?"

"Yes," Mr. Reynolds said, "Kieran fought. He received little injuries, though, it's the other two boys and Jillian that were bruised a bit –"

"Is Jilly OK?" Lindsay asked quickly.

"Well, she has a bit of a cut on her knee, but she's fine. Why don't you go see them?" Mr. Reynolds said, smiling at the two of them.

The two women stood. Paulina helped Lindsay get her crutches together and aided her in getting out of the room.

"Does Kieran not fight a lot?" Lindsay asked.

Paulina shook her head. "It's just…" she couldn't seem to get her head around it. "I don't know. Sometimes I wonder …" her voice slipped to a quieter tone, as if afraid to unleash the thought into the world, "I wonder if being around his stepfather has made him … angrier, somehow. He gets so mad sometimes," she said wistfully.

Lindsay looked up at her.

"I think that maybe I didn't do the right thing, leaving the way I did," Paulina admitted, "I left Don so suddenly, and then I found out I was pregnant right after … I knew it couldn't be Carl's, but I didn't want to come back. I don't think that was the right choice for Kieran." She shook her head to clear herself of the thoughts, her bright smile returning. "But that's done. There's nothing I can do now."

"You could –" Lindsay started, but she was interrupted as Kieran and Jilly burst into the hallway, both chattering and trying to explain what had happened at a thousand words per minute.

"- they just started hitting –" Kieran shouted.

"We tried to –" Jilly said.

" – and I didn't mean to hit the little one –"

"Kieran was just helping me fight back –"

" – and Jilly didn't do anything to them at all –"

"Stop!" Lindsay and Paulina shouted. The two kids stared up at them, dirt smudged, pink cheeks and chapped hands.

"Now, you're both suspended, to start with," Lindsay said.

"And Kieran, you're grounded for making me leave work like this," Paulina said. She looked down at him angrily, "And we talked about fighting. You never, ever fight. You cannot get angry like this. You promised me. No more fighting."

The two kids looked at each other with forlorn little eyes. Kieran rammed his fists into his jeans pockets angrily. Jilly hugged her midsection, pouting.

"Come on, now, we're going home," Lindsay said sternly. She started crutching towards the exit with Paulina, the two kids trailing behind.

"How are you feeling?" Paulina asked, glancing down at the heavy cast.

"So-so. It twinges still. But I'm getting better," Lindsay smiled. She frowned and glanced at her wristwatch. "Danny insisted on coming," she grumbled, "He said he was going to be here in thirty minutes. That was twenty minutes ago."

Paulina laughed. "I haven't told Don. I guess I have to." She glanced back at Kieran, who was scuffing the ground with his toe.

"Looks like you _won't_ have to," Lindsay mused, watching the silver SUV pull up to the school. Don and Danny stepped out of the car, their faces unreadable canvases.

Danny walked over and kissed Lindsay softly, one hand on the back of her head. He glanced down at Jilly. "Huh," he said, and bent down to her level.

Jilly stood stock still as Danny inspected the scrape that stretched from Jilly's knee to mid-calf. He glanced up at the dirt that smudged the side of her cheek and wiped it off with his thumb. "Your knee hurt?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head.

"Lemme see your knuckles."

Jilly, mildly confused, raised her hands. The knuckles were bruised and scraped. Danny inspected them carefully, then smiled at her. "You punched someone?" he asked.

"Danny!" Lindsay exclaimed, and smacked him on the leg with her crutches.

"What? She fought back; it's good!" He shouted back, hoisting Jilly up onto his hip. He kissed her cheek. "Nice job, kiddo. How many were there?"

"Two," she said, smiling back at him.

"I can't believe you guys!" Lindsay sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. "This is incredible."

As they bickered, Don watched them with a half-grin on his face.

Paulina, however, was watching Kieran as the little boy wiped his running nose with the back of one very bruised little hand.

"No, it's fine, we'll catch a cab. Linds needs to be in car with that leg, anyways," Don said.

"Thanks, man," Danny responded, and helped a protesting Lindsay into the SUV.

* * *

"So," Don said, turning to Kieran, "talk. What happened?"

"They came out of nowhere," Kieran said, his eyes shining at the chance to talk to his father, "And they pushed Jilly and she fell." He wrinkled his little, freckled nose in disgust. "They were mean. They called her names. She got up and one of them started hitting her, so she fought back. But there were two of them so I had to help."

"At least it was for a good reason," Don said, ruffling Kieran's hair.

"You could have solved it better," Paulina broke in, "K, you know what we agreed to. No fighting."

Don looked at her, his face a picture of confusion. "You had an agreement?"

"I told him not to fight. He promised," she explained, and turned to Kieran. "It's not right. There are other ways to resolve these things. You didn't tell a teacher?"

Kieran looked to his dad for help.

"Listen to your mother," Don said, frowning. Aside, he murmured to Paulina, "You never mentioned this to me."

"I thought you would tell him not to fight," she hissed back.

Kieran stomped his foot on the ground. "You said it was OK!" he yelled at Don, "And mommy didn't! This always happens!" He swallowed a lump in his throat and glared at the two of them. "You always tell me different things! I hate it! I hate both of you!"

Paulina took a step back.

Don knelt in front of Kieran and took his shoulders firmly. "You do not say that," he said, his blue eyes blazing with a rival anger, "Do not speak that way to me and your mother."

Kieran blinked, staring Flack in the eyes. He sniffed again.

"Apologize to your mother. Right now," Don said, his gaze burning into Kieran.

"I'm sorry," Kieran muttered.

"Now wait here. Your mother and I have to talk," he said fiercely. "You sit against that wall and you think about what you did. You ever say something like that again, you're in big trouble. Now stay."

Don put his hand on Paulina's soft blue sweater, leading her aside.

"What agreement?" he asked softly.

Paulina threw a sidelong glance at Kieran, then turned back to Don. "In preschool, he used to bite. Then he hit kids in kindergarten and I started getting called in. We made a deal. He wouldn't fight anymore, and I would take him to a movie each weekend, as a prize. I thought it was over for a while. When he started spending so much time with you. But he's started it again." She bit her lip. "I thought it was just a phase," she said worriedly, "But I think it's part of who he is."

"You can't know that for sure," Don said soothingly. He gently rubbed her arm.

Paulina nodded and looked over at Kieran. "I got a place. An apartment. I'm moving out."

Don grinned. "That's fantastic."

"I start at the end of the month."

"I'll help you move out."

"Carl's not happy."

"Fuck him."

She laughed, her previous tension nearly forgotten.

"Let's go catch a cab, OK?" he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.


	19. Chapter 19

Lindsay wiggled. She strained and she stretched. She twisted herself into strange positions, lifting her legs and arms and turning herself into a human pretzel. But try as she might, she could not shave her good leg.

"Fuck!" she shrieked, throwing the razor across the bathroom. It slammed into the wall with an anticlimactic, plastic clink. The pink razor fell to the ground, its handle snapped cleanly in two.

Staring at the object on the floor, Lindsay burst into tears.

Very cautiously, the door to the small bathroom slid open, and Danny stepped in.

"Montana," he nodded by way of greeting.

Lindsay hiccupped and let her face fall into her arms, sobbing in earnest. Danny took in the sight of her, her leg half-lathered in shaving cream as she sat on the edge of the empty tub with her broken leg awkwardly thrown out to the side. Her sweat pants were neatly folded near the sink, sitting on the floor. She was wearing only a big t-shirt of Danny's and her underwear.

"You wanna talk about it?" Danny asked walking over to her and laying his hand on her head comfortingly.

"No," she sobbed, "I just want to shave my leg."

"Why? I don't care."

"It's not for you!" she cried, "I just want my leg shaved. I like how it feels."

Danny crouched next to the bathtub, looking up at her. "Let me see what I can do."

"It's not just that," she sobbed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and sniffling loudly.

"Then what is it?"

"I want to get clean," she cried, "I hate having to wash myself with a stupid washcloth, and I hate this stupid, stupid cast!" She collapsed into another fit of crying. Danny carefully moved her good leg off the side of the bathtub and sat next to her on the edge of the tub, rocking her gently. "I thought it would make me feel better," she sobbed into his shoulder, "I just thought if I shaved I'd feel better. But I can't do it." Her voice ended it a pitiful shriek of a sob, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and cried heavily.

"Let me see what I can do," Danny repeated. He reached behind her and turned on the tub, testing the water with his fingers. When the tub was filled with a little less than a foot of hot water, he took off his shirt.

"C'mon," he said, "Take off your clothes."

She eyed him nervously.

"It's just a bath," he cajoled, "Nothing else."

She hesitantly pulled off the shirt, throwing it to the side. Danny unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off. "I can leave the boxers on, if you want," he suggested.

She shook her head and reached around herself to unhook her bra. He took off his boxers before helping her unclasp the bra and pull her panties over the cumbersome cast on her leg.

Then, he carefully stepped into the bath and reached out a hand to her. She looked at him curiously. "I can't," she said, "My cast will get wet."

He shook his head. "Don't worry, I got an idea," he said, grinning at her. He waggled his fingers at her.

She used his hand to support herself and keep weight off of her broken leg, and stepped into the bath with her good leg, leaving her straddling the side of the tub.

"Be careful not to slip," he cautioned, and eased her down to a sitting position. As she sat, he helped her move her broken leg down into the bath. She sat in the shallow water, shivering slightly at the slightly drafty air of the bathroom. The water came up to her belly button as she sat down.

Danny held her leg above the water carefully. "Ready?" he asked.

"For what?" she responded nervously.

"Trust me," he said.

She nodded and relaxed.

"I'm gonna pull your leg a little bit, and I want you to scoot down the wall of the bath while I do it, OK?" he explained.

She complied, wiggling down the slippery tub wall until the water was at her chin. She felt her broken leg rest on something solid, and looked up to see that Danny had placed it on his broad shoulder. She laughed, the sound a little snotty after her recent cry.

"Comfy?" Danny asked, grinning widely. He looked bizarre with Lindsay's thick, heavy plaster cast sitting so calmly on his shoulder.

"Yes," she giggled. It was a strange, slightly embarrassing pose, but it was oddly comfortable.

"A'right. Where's your razor? I'll get started on that leg," he said, looking around the small bathroom for it.

She frowned. "I kind of … well, it broke."

He laughed, finally spying the destroyed razor lying in two pink pieces near the wall. "I'll grab mine." Holding her leg above the water with one hand, he stood up and leaned over to the sink, snagging his razor from next to the faucet.

"You hate when I use your razor," Lindsay reminded him.

"No," he said slowly, grabbing the shaving cream and starting to re-lather her good leg, "I hate when you're sad."

She smiled and watched him start to shave her leg, working in smooth, even lines and taking the most delicate care not to nick her. She wondered how she'd gotten to be married to a man so good looking. It was a selfish thought, as shallow as the bath water she was sitting in, but she couldn't help but wonder. He could have had anyone, and he had her – country bumpkin, tomboy little Lindsay Monroe.

"I like you," she said, smiling faintly at him.

He glanced up, the razor paused mid-way up her calf. "I like you, too," he snorted, and continued dragging the razor up her leg.

"I mean, I love you more than anything, and all that stuff –" she laughed, attempting to explain.

"So romantic," he grumbled, adjusting her cast up on his shoulder as it slipped ever so slightly.

"Oh, hush. I mean, I don't _just_ love you; I like you, too. It's nice," she said comfortably, resting her head back on the edge of the tub.

"It is," he agreed, albeit a little confused. He washed off the razor in the bath and started another slow, steady line up her leg.

She glanced down her body again, seeing the way her belly stuck up above the water. It was only a little higher than it normally was, but it was a nice, round curve – evidence of their baby. She rested a hand on it and rubbed it with her thumb.

Danny glanced up from his work at the sound of splashing water and grinned widely before bending back down to her leg. "Baby's gettin' bigger," he remarked as he finished up shaving the area around her ankle.

"Hmm," she agreed, looking down at her hand. Her wedding ring sparkled lightly through the tiny droplets of water that clung to it. She tilted her hand, watching the way it glittered.

"You thought about any names?" he asked, finishing up with her leg. He washed off the razor then set her leg down in the bath, rubbing off the excess shaving cream.

She shrugged as he settled back against the other end of the tub, reaching behind him to locate the spigot and to avoid smacking his head against it.

"Watcha feelin'? Boy or girl?" he asked.

"I don't know," she sighed. "With Jilly, I knew it was a girl. With this one …" she rubbed the bump lightly. "I have no idea."

"So, boy _and_ girl names 'til we hear different."

"How about naming a girl after your mother?" she asked.

Danny shook his head. "The world only needs one Theresa Messer."

Lindsay laughed. "What about boy names?"

He rubbed her good leg affectionately, thinking. "I dunno. My ma was all pissed we didn't name Jilly something biblical."

Lindsay giggled. "How about Ebanezer? That one's in the Bible. Or Blastus."

"Clown," he snorted, flicking some water at her.

"How about Vincent?"

"No."

She looked at him inquisitively.

"Reminds me of my Uncle Vinny," he explained, "No kid of mine should be named after a fat old guy with marinara sauce dried on his chin."

"Talk about stereotypes," Lindsay murmured, leaning back onto the wall. "Will you hand me the shampoo and conditioner over there? I have to wash my hair."

He reached back and grabbed the two, vivid green Garnier Fructis bottles sitting by the edge of the bathtub. He handed them over to her and leaned back, thinking about names. "How about Julia, for a girl?" he suggested.

"Sure," Lindsay said, squirting some shampoo onto her hand. She rubbed it into her hair, working up a thick lather. "Julia Messer. It sounds nice," she said, thinking.

"And a boy? We got a first pick, or are we goin' with Blasto?"

"It's Blastus. And hell no," she giggled. "Lucas?"

"Lucas Messer?"

"Luke for short."

"That in the bible?"

"Yes. Shouldn't you know that? My little Catholic choir boy?" she teased, dipping her head back into the water and washing out the shampoo.

"I was just makin' sure," he said, taking the shampoo bottle as she tossed it back at him. He debated with washing his hair with it, then decided against it, smelling the flowery, fruity shampoo and deciding that it was really more Lindsay's thing. He dumped it behind him and watched her run conditioner through her curls.

He shifted her leg gently, the coarse cast biting into the top of his shoulder. He set it closer to his neck, in the curve of his shoulder. Lindsay winced slightly.

"Wassa matter, I hurt you?" Danny asked, feeling guilty already.

"No, not really. It just twinges now and then," she assured him. She sighed and rested her head on the tub wall, waiting for the conditioner to set in. "Did Don call about Jilly?"

"Yeah," Danny grinned, "While you were napping. Says Jilly and Kieran made cookies with Paulina, and now they're building a fort in the middle of Kieran's room. Flack tacked up paper on the sheets so they could make cave paintings."

"Jilly's idea?" Lindsay asked.

Danny nodded. "Jilly's idea," he sighed.

She dunked her head in the water and washed out all the conditioner, then came up, face shiny and wet. "Done," she smiled.

"Ready to get out?" he asked.

She nodded. He reached behind him and unplugged the drain, then leaned forwards, holding her cast to his side, and wrapped his other arm around her. Slowly and carefully, wary of the slippery tub, he lifted her out of the bath.

She was surprised to see him treat her in such a platonic way, giving no indication that her slippery skin was turning him on. She knew it was affecting him _somehow_; she could recognize the signs by now, but he did a lot to wrestle it down, touching her only where necessary to hold her up, and avoiding her eyes.

He carefully set her down on the edge of the tub and grabbed two fluffy, white towels. He made sure she had hers wrapped tightly around her body before tying his own around his waist.

"Want me to get you into the bedroom first, or should I bring you some clothes?" he asked.

"I might need help getting changed," she said.

He nodded and lifted her up, bridal style, walking her to the bedroom. She rested her wet head on his shoulder happily. Contemplating his profile for a moment, she kissed his cheek, holding it longer than a normal cheek kiss, smiling at how his skin was soft and slippery after the bath.

He turned to look at her, thought for a moment, then kissed her on the lips for the first time since the kidnapping. She smiled into the kiss and adjusted herself in his arms. She brushed her tongue lightly against his mouth, and she felt the slight intake of air he took. Keeping their mouths connected, he stumbled into the bedroom, walking them towards the bed.

The kiss was slow, even as Danny lay Lindsay down on the bed and stretched himself atop her. They moved quietly, leisurely, letting the towels bunch up and be pushed to the edge of the bed. Danny's hand slid behind Lindsay's head, pulling it up to meet his lips even closer.

Danny's hand settled itself on Lindsay's hip, resting right at the spot where it curved up to her torso. She slipped one arm around his back, resting her hand on his back. She ran her fingers over the muscles there, marveling as they twitched as he held himself above her. The hand on her hip inched closer and closer to the space between her legs. His other hand ghosted across the side of her body, moving up and down while he kissed her.

"Wait," she whispered.

He pulled back immediately, watching her. She hesitated, and in her absence of explanation, he rolled off of her, finally able to see the heavy bruising that had faded to a light green. He lay on his back and swallowed the taste of her. "Sorry," he said, "I forgot."

"That's how it should be," she said softly, "We shouldn't be thinking about it."

He got up and grabbed some clothes for her, underwear, yoga pants, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. He laid them down next to her and helped her sit up before heading to the closet again and pulling on some clothes himself.

When he turned around, she was working the yoga pants over her cast. He knelt before her and helped tug them on. "Can you scoot back? Or do you need help?" he asked.

She shook her head and tugged herself over to the pillows, resting her head and watching as he turned off the light and crawled into bed with her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Nothin' to be sorry about," he said.

"Try again," she told him, "Kiss me again."

"Linds, I –" She stopped his words with a kiss, sliding her top half over on top of him, her lower half anchored steadily by her cast.

Danny sat up, bringing her with him. He sat her in his lap and brushed her hair back. "You gonna tell me when to stop?"

She nodded.

"Just shake your head if you're uncomfortable," he said.

She waited, watching him, then nodded. He bent in towards her and softly kissed her, their mouths quickly finding the old routine. He stayed simple there, just gentle brushes of tongue and light sucking on her lower lip.

She nodded.

He pulled her closer and nudged her mouth open wider with his own, slipping his tongue in and finding hers.

She nodded.

He carefully set her on the bed and stretched out on top of her, yet holding himself above her body on his forearms. One hand slid up her side, now clothed, and tangled itself in her wet hair.

She nodded.

He brought the other hand to the hem of her shirt and slowly, carefully dragged it up her body and bunched it up around her chest. She sighed contentedly as he broke the kiss and pulled it all the way off her head, leaving her naked from the chest up once more. He let his upper body rest on hers gingerly, feeling the warmth of her damp skin through his t-shirt.

She nodded.

He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her neck as he worked his own shirt over his head. He sucked on the delicate skin of her neck, on a space on her neck right below her jaw. One hand came up to touch her breast.

She shook her head.

He stopped what he was doing completely, and came up on his elbows. "No more?" he asked.

She smiled. "Not that. I just wanted you to kiss me again," she giggled.

He smiled back and brought his mouth back to hers.

* * *

Don peeked into the fort in his living room. The haphazard structure barely looked like it would support the weight of a butterfly. Kieran and Jilly were curled into sleeping bags, facing each other. Jilly's thumb was stuck in her mouth, Kieran's mouth twitched in sleep. He held in a laugh and let the flap of the fort close. He picked his way around the objects in the living room - assorted toy trucks, legos, and shoes. He wondered at what moment his life had changed so much that he couldn't remember what it was like to be facing the world alone.

Paulina had left an hour ago. Don hated that she was still staying with Carl in their apartment. He knew it was temporary, just until the end of the month, but he still worried. It was like a part of Don had become solely about Paulie - just like part of him was permanently reserved for Kieran. But _this_ part, this _particular _part that Paulina seemed to inhabit - it was too centered in his chest, a dull ache that wanted her near him constantly. He knew her, he'd known her for years now. And something told him that all that had held her in her marriage was fear of what it would be like to break up with Carl. He knew that her breakup with Carl after high school had been nasty - bitter words exchanged, threatening phone calls, and Carl had followed her from West Virginia to New York to try to get her back. Borderline stalker, if you asked Don.

He sighed and headed to the kitchen. He pulled out a glass and filled it with water, drinking slowly. He nearly leaped off the floor when his buzzer sounded. He picked up the phone. "Hello?" he asked.

_"Don, it's me," _Paulina said, her voice tinny through the intercom, _"I think I left something there. Can I come up?"_

"Yeah, definitely," Don said, and buzzed her in. He met her at the door.

She stood in front of him, breathless and pink cheeked, her blonde hair slipping loose from her french braid. "I -" she managed, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly. She broke it quickly, smiling when he leaned into her. "I didn't forget anything," she whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Don said, dumbfounded. He only had the strength to pull Paulina close to him and kiss her again.


	20. Chapter 20

"She needs to get out," Lindsay said, "Danny, I don't know how many times I've told you: you cannot make her stay inside for an entire day. She just won't be able to do it."

"But … you …"

"I have Officer Davis. He's right outside," she said firmly. "Now take her somewhere."

"Lindsay, come on," Danny wheedled, "I have to stay with you."

Lindsay laughed. "You haven't left my side in over a week. Maybe I need some time alone," she said pointedly.

He blinked, not understanding for a moment. Then it hit. "You're tired of me?" he asked, hiding a smile.

She back-paddled quickly, afraid of hurting his feelings. "Danny, I didn't mean to –"

"Kidding, Montana, I'll get out of your way. But you call me any time; I'll be back quick. Got it?" He kissed her head and got up from the couch, throwing on his jacket. "Jilly!" he called out, "You wanna come out with me?"

Jilly came skidding out of her room, her yellow and black-spotted tights slipping all over the wood floors. "Yes!" she shrieked, sliding herself into his legs.

He bent down and swooped her up. He tugged down her purple shirt and kissed her cheek. "A'right. I got some grocery shopping to do, but we can do what you want first."

Jilly scrunched up her nose in thought. "Swimming!" she said excitedly.

"You're serious? You wanna go swimming in this weather?" He nodded towards the threatening, ominous clouds out the window. She nodded happily, swinging her stockinged feet. "OK, fine, we'll go to the Y."

Jilly laughed a high pitched, happy laugh and Danny set her on the floor.

"Have fun," Lindsay smiled, watching as Jilly slipped her way towards her room to get her swimsuit.

* * *

Danny waited against the wall of the YMCA hallway, his head leaning on the dull, cold concrete. The air was stiflingly humid, seeping from the sweat room down the hall. Suddenly, the door to the women's changing room swept open and Jilly hopped out in her green striped swimsuit. Danny handed her a towel and reached down to hold her hand.

She took his, hopping on the tiled floor.

"You remember the rules, don't you?" Danny asked.

"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes and her head so much that her little honey curls shook in response. "No swimming in the deep end unless I tell you, no running, no talking to strangers, no screaming – oh!" she yelped as Danny threw her towel away, hoisted her up, and leaped into the pool holding her.

She swum her way to the surface, shaking her head to dry her curls. She looked around for Danny, doggy paddling to stay afloat, but found him nowhere in the sparsely crowded pool.

She yelped as something tickled her foot and glanced down as Danny splashed to the surface. "Gotcha," he grinned, and wrapped one arm around her before kicking his way to where he could stand.

Jilly treaded water next to him, slowly running out of breath. "Daddy," she giggled, spluttering, "I can't stand."

Danny, who was about chest-deep in the water, reached out and snagged her, setting her on his hip. She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a watery kiss on his cheek.

"Will you swim me to the deep end?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah," he smiled, "Hang on to my back, OK?" he grinned, and got on his stomach in the water and swiftly swam to the other end of the pool.

* * *

Danny sat on the bench next to the pool, water still dripping from his hair, a towel wrapped around his neck as he tried to fix Jilly's hair.

Jilly was giggling as he fumbled through the braid. She was already dressed, trying to tie her shoes. She glanced over at Danny's converse, trying to mimic the tie of his laces. She tugged on his pant leg and glanced up from her position on the floor at his feet. "Daddy, will you tie my shoes?" she asked.

He frowned at the half-done, mangled braid in his hands. "You know how to tie your shoes, JJ, Mommy and I taught you."

"But you do it better," she said, "And mommy braids my hair better," she giggled.

"You know what? This is useless." He undid the mess he'd created of her hair and settled for brushing it and tying back into a ponytail. Then he pulled her up onto his lap and quickly tied one of her shoes. "Now you do the other, got it?" he said, grinning at her.

She frowned down at the shoe and carefully knotted the laces, then fashioned a very loose, very loopy bow. She looked up at Danny, smiling widely. "Good?" she asked.

"Very. Now hurry up, put your jacket on, we gotta get a move on those groceries." He grabbed her hat from the bench next to him and pulled it over her head tightly, making sure her ears were covered. "It's gonna be cold," he reminded her.

She grinned widely at him and held her hands up indicating she wanted to be lifted.

Danny rolled his eyes and lifted her up. He chuckled as she nuzzled her head into his neck and wiggled closer to him, trying to get under his jacket.

He unbuttoned the heavy jacket all the way and re-fastened it around her body. He walked outside, hunching over as he felt the wind blow heavily around him. Danny wrapped his arms around her tighter, bringing one hand up to shield her face from the wind. He hurried over to his car in the parking lot, quickly opened the door, and fastened her into the car seat.

* * *

"Home!" Danny hollered into the apartment, Jilly trundling along behind him with one hand already digging inside the paper bag she held. She fished out the box of hot chocolate mix and handed it up to Danny.

Lindsay crutched out of the bedroom, her rounded stomach peeking out from under her tank top.

Danny gave her a glance up and down, ending up on her stomach. "We gotta pull out those maternity clothes from last time," he remarked, unloading the groceries.

"'Last time?' How loving," she joked, resting her crutches on the wall and hopping over to a chair. She sat down and held out her hand for the hot chocolate mix Jilly was holding.

"I'm loving," Danny insisted, and bent down and kissed her hello. Jilly walked over to drop off her shoes at the heater, and Danny whispered in her ear, "I'll prove it when JJ's in bed if you don't believe me."

She shoved him off with a giggle. "Go make me hot chocolate, lover boy," she snorted

He tore open the packet and dumped it into a cup. "You owe me for this," he grumbled, pouring water in it and stirring before shoving the mug into the microwave.

"For making me hot chocolate?" she asked, and laughed dramatically. "Oh, you foolish man. I'm getting fat for you," she said, holding onto her stomach and rubbing her hands on it.

He walked over and kissed her before grinning and saying, "No, you're getting _pregnant_ for _us_."

"Aw," she said, "so sappy."

"I'm either not loving enough, or too sappy," he sighed theatrically, and called down the hallway for Jilly to come get the plastic bag with her wet swimsuit in it.

Jilly hopped into the room on one foot, concentrating fiercely on the path in front of her. She wobbled, grabbed her swimsuit, then switched to the other foot and hopped back out of the room. Her parents watched her intently, observing her actions. As she left, and the door to her room closed, Danny and Lindsay turned to look at each other.

"What was _that_?" Lindsay asked, holding in a laugh.

Danny shook his head. "I got no idea. If you pop out another one like that, I don't think I'll make it to fifty."

"Pop out?" Lindsay laughed, "What the hell?"

"Oh, am I not being loving enough?" Danny mocked, leaning in to kiss her. As his tongue slid into her mouth, Lindsay let out a surprised, tiny moan. Danny grinned against her lips and slowly leaned into the kiss, bending Lindsay more and more over backwards until she was nearly horizontal, lying on the chair she was sitting on. Danny broke the kiss, holding onto the table for support and Lindsay's back to support her.

Lindsay pouted. "No more?" she asked.

Danny pressed a quick kiss to her collarbone and pulled her back up again. "Hot chocolate's ready," he explained.

* * *

"We got two outs," Danny said gravely, "Two strikes, three balls. Blondie steps up to the plate."

Jilly hopped onto the sheet of construction paper she and Danny had placed near her door.

"Blondie looks nervous. Rightfully so," he said as he twisted the small, squishy bean ball in his hands, "Bases are loaded," Danny looked at the stuffed penguin sitting near the door to the bathroom, the potted sunflower plant sitting on 'second base' – the far corner of Jilly's room, and Jilly's colorful backpack sitting on 'third base' – Jilly's hot pink bed.

"Blondie raises her bat," Danny said, nodding towards Jilly, who lifted the pillow she was holding, "Cocks it," he instructed. Jilly pulled the bat back.

"Messer readies for the pitch … winds up … and –" Danny tossed the bean ball towards Jilly.

Jilly swung hard. The ball hit the pillow and thumped anticlimactically. It bounced off the soft pillow and shot out a few feet before falling to the floor. Jilly was off and running, scooping up the assorted objects adorning the other bases. She shrieked as, halfway between second and third base, Danny started to chase her with the ball in his hands, jogging at a slow pace to let her get ahead.

Jilly scooped up her backpack and raced towards the door, 'home base.' She didn't stop there, instead zooming out the door and speeding into the kitchen.

Danny picked up his pace as she headed towards the living room, picked her up, pulled the assorted objects out of her grasp, and spun her around in his arms, growling, "Thought you could get away, huh?"

Jilly shrieked and struggled to get loose, but not before Danny dropped her onto the couch and tickled her.

"Now, who won that game?" he asked his sputtering, hysterically laughing daughter.

"M-m-me!" she shrieked, screaming with laughter.

"You sure about that?" Danny asked, refusing to let up.

"Fine, you win, you win!" she shouted.

"A'right, enough," Danny sighed, and stopped torturing her. He scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder, his hand holding onto her squirming, kicking feet. "Bedtime," he said, scooping up the backpack, Groucho, and the potted plant as he walked.

When they got to her room, he dropped her onto the bed and pulled back the covers. He set her three 'teammates' on the floor and pulled the covers back over her chin, holding them over her arms to where she couldn't move.

She giggled and tried to squirm free of the hold.

"You brush your teeth?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Lemme see. Smile."

She threw him a bright, toothy smile, so wide she had to scrunch up her eyes and nose for him.

"Looks good," he grinned, and kissed her forehead. "Now go to bed."

"I can't," she whined, pulling at his arm as he tried to leave her room, "I'm not tired."

"Try."

"No," she whined, "Don't leave."

"Jilly," Danny groaned tiredly.

She pulled the blankets up to her chin and stared at him with her big, blue eyes. Danny frowned, knowing he couldn't refuse that look.

"You're scared?" he asked, "Is that it? You think you're gonna have the nightmare again?"

Her little blonde head bobbed up and down on the pillow.

"Well you aren't. You got Elvis here to protect you," Danny said, tapping on the glass of the round fishbowl on the bedside table.

Jilly stared at him worriedly.

Danny sighed and placed a hand on her head, his thumb rubbing her forehead gently. "Nobody's going to come in here, you know that? The door is locked, mommy and I are both right next door, and you got nothing to worry about."

"What about the closet?" Jilly asked worriedly, throwing a glance at the dark cave of her closet.

"Nothing's in the closet," Danny sighed.

"You don't know that," Jilly whispered.

Danny got up from the bed and went to the closet, opening it widely and shuffling her clothes around. "See?" he said, "Nothing in here."

"Can I sleep with the lights on?" Jilly asked.

"No," Danny said, "I'll turn your nightlight on but that's it. Now go to bed. Fall asleep, right now, JJ."

She giggled and buried her head under the covers.

* * *

Don jogged up the steps of Paulina and Carl's apartment building, hands in his coat pockets. It was late, he knew that, but he'd asked Paulina if he could visit Kieran after the day he'd had. Something about seeing his son made the harder parts of work ease and slip away.

He knocked on the door. It opened quickly to reveal a brooding, clearly drunk Carl. Don wondered if he'd ever seen Carl sober. "Carl," Don said curtly, "P – Kieran home?"

"No," Carl said.

"Is Paulina?"

"No."

"Where are they?" Don asked, rolling his eyes.

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Outside."

"Outside where? And you'd better be specific," Don said, his tone betraying a sharp, angry edge.

"Out in the park."

"What park? I want an address," Don said firmly.

"The one right outside," Carl said, and tried to slam the door shut. Don smacked out a hand and held it open.

"Don't be rude, now," Don said in a sugary sweet voice. He closed the door gently with an overly cheerful, fake wave to Carl.

* * *

Paulina chased after Kieran, scooping up a snowball. "Get back here!" she shouted, laughing and throwing the packed snow at his jacket.

He dodged it and dove behind the slide in the jungle gym. He quickly packed together four snowballs and held three in one arm as he ran out the other side of the slide, chucking them rapid-fire at Paulina.

Paulina shrieked and covered her head, running towards her son. She lifted him up and spun him around.

"Mommy, stop!" Kieran shouted, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

Paulina held him upside down by his feet. "How's that feel?" she asked, laughing.

Kieran shrieked and wiggled until she hoisted him up again and set him on the ground. He took off at a sprint towards the jungle gym. He sped up the steps and stood at the top of the slide, panting.

Don watched the two as he approached, his hands stuck in his pockets. He grinned. Paulina and Kieran's cheeks were bright pink with the cold. Kieran was wearing Paulie's jacket, a long red coat that hit the tops of Kieran's knees. Paulina was wearing only a cream colored sweater and jeans in the cold air.

"Daddy!" Kieran said, spotting Flack walking towards them.

Don walked over to the jungle gym and raised his arms up to catch Kieran as the little boy hopped over the edge of the side into his father's arms. Don kissed his head and set him on the snowy ground.

"Isn't it K's bedtime?" Don asked as he shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it over Paulina's shoulders. "It's like quarter of nine."

"Well _someone_," Paulina said, giving a mock glare to Kieran, "was too jumpy to sleep."

Kieran laughed and reached up to Don, pressing his little cold hands into Don's shirt.

"Jesus!" Flack yelled, "Your hands are freezing!" He scooped up Kieran and held the boy on his hip. "You two do realize that it's like fifteen degrees out here, right?" he asked Paulina.

She shrugged. Don took her cold hand in his, and led her towards his car, a brave gesture, but a not entirely unreciprocated one. She held his hand for a moment, before glancing up at the apartment building ahead of them.

"You worried he can see us?" Don asked.

Paulina frowned, her hand tightening reflexively around Don's.

"So what?" Don whispered in her ear.

Paulina grinned and walked in step with Don. He kissed her cheek with uncharacteristic shyness. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"He's a good man," she said to Don, "he is. He's just going through a hard time right now."

Don grimaced and hoisted Kieran higher on his hip. "And how long has this hard time been going on?"

Paulina giggled and half-skipped ahead of Don and Kieran, dragging them along. "About seven years now," she laughed.


	21. Chapter 21

Sorry it took so long Webdlfan - I'm out of town :)

* * *

"What's your name?" Jilly asked, bending down to the man's level. He was a scruffy, grungy man, sitting in front of a plastic cup filled with some change. His legs were gone, his beard was graying and untamed.

"Jackson," the man grunted back.

"What's your favorite color?" Jilly questioned, hugging her knees and scrunching up her nose. She looked over at the man's dog, a grungy spotted, brown, white, and black mutt with drooping ears and a crooked jaw.

"Well, I like blue, but not like your shoelaces," the man said, pointing to Jilly's neon blue laces on her tiny gray converse, "And not like that sign, either," he pointed to the navy blue sign above the liquor store across the road, "But more like that man's shirt over there." He pointed to Danny, who was practically jogging down the sidewalk, hurrying towards Jilly.

"Sorry 'bout that," Danny grumbled, and tugged Jilly up by her arm and pulled her along after him. Once they were out of earshot of the man, Danny picked her up and glared at her. "We talked about this."

"He had a doggie!" Jilly said, pouting.

"So? You know better than that," he scolded sharply. "What did we talk about? You never, ever talk to strangers unless I say it's OK."

Jilly sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Hey," Danny snapped, pulling on her arm, "You gonna say you'll do that?"

"I will," Jilly said quietly.

"You swear?" Danny said fiercely, "Because this is the absolute last time I let you get away with talking to someone you don't know."

"I will," Jilly repeated.

"Good," Danny sighed, "Now stay with me. Don't run up ahead." He put her back down on the ground and took her gloved hand. Danny had been sent out by Lindsay to find some rose-scented body lotion, something to take away the smell of their neighbor's apartment. The man next door had sprayed his apartment with tea tree oil to get rid of 'ghosts.' Danny had threatened to have him arrested if he didn't get rid of it, for it was making Lindsay nauseated. After walking out of the store for nearly two seconds, Jilly had already skipped ahead and had started talking to a bum on the street.

"Daddy?" Jilly asked once she'd determined that he'd stopped fuming at her.

"Yeah," Danny asked, heading into the crime lab.

"Can I have two husbands?"

Danny did a rapid-fast double take, ending up staring at her disbelievingly. "What? No!" he responded. "Jilly, I told you already, no kissing, no nothing. Boys are just for friends, not husbands or boyfriends." He showed his badge to the man at the front desk and proceeded to the elevator.

"But I want two!" Jilly insisted.

"Well you can't have any."

Jilly pouted. "Stop," she whined.

"Stop what?" Danny snapped.

"You're being mean," she whimpered, attempting to pull her hand out of his.

"Am not," Danny retorted, maintaining his grasp on her hand.

"Are, too," Jilly pouted.

The elevator opened with a bright 'ding.' Danny swept Jilly up and placed her on his hip. He dropped kisses on her cheek, her chin, and her ear as her protest turned into giggles and finally she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he sighed, hugging her tightly.

"It's OK," she mumbled, burying her face into his neck.

"Look, I'm just tired 'cause mommy's not feelin' too good."

"Does her leg hurt?" Jilly asked curiously.

"Kinda. But the baby makes her feel like she has to throw up a lot, so that makes her feel awful, and then the leg hurts, and she's really tired now."

"Because of the baby?" Jilly asked.

Danny nodded. They were silent for a while, with Danny thinking about what he had to do, and JIlly playing with Danny's dog tags.

"Am I going to be a police officer like you and mommy when I grow up?" she asked.

"No," Danny snorted.

"Why not?" Jilly asked in confusion.

"Because it's dangerous. You're gonna be a doctor or a CEO or somethin'."

"Why can't I be like you and mommy?" she asked.

"Because that's me and mommy's job." He stepped out onto the thirty fifth floor, Jilly still in his arms. "Look, I know you're tired of tagging along with me all day, and I just gotta drop somethin' off real quick and then we can go home."

"Yay!" Jilly said. "Mommy's home, right?"

"Yeah, she'll probably be there. Aunt Stella took her out for a sec, but I bet she's back now …" he dropped the bag onto his desk and headed out of the room. "OK, let's go."

Jilly laughed excitedly and wiggled her way down, racing towards the elevator and stepping on her tiptoes to reach the button for the elevator.

* * *

Jilly's head was sitting on her hands, her elbows on the table, her eyes glued to General Grant, the class turtle. She watched him sadly as he slowly chewed a piece of lettuce.

"Hello, Kieran!" the teacher said brightly.

Jilly turned around, smiling widely. Kieran ignored the teacher's cheerful welcome and headed straight for Jilly. They went to their customary place on the blue beanbag chair near the back of the classroom. They plopped down on the squishy chair and Jilly stuck her thumb in her mouth.

"Jillian!" the teacher called from the front of the classroom, "Big girls don't suck their thumbs. Thumb out, please!"

Jilly reluctantly tugged her thumb out of her mouth and shoved her hands into the pockets of her gray woolen sweater.

"Just put it back in when she turns away," Kieran suggested, absentmindedly kicking his little feet onto the bean bag as he waited for his mother came over to kiss him goodbye.

After Paulina put Kieran's backpack into his cubby, she walked over to the beanbag and ruffled Kieran's hair affectionately. "I'll see you after school, all right K? You have soccer practice."

Kieran wrinkled his nose. "I hate soccer. I want to play hockey," he said.

Paulina laughed. "Just like your father, right? Well, look, honey, as soon as soccer season's over, you can try a new sport." She kissed his nose. "How about you, Jilly? Do you play sports?"

Jilly smiled and shrugged. "Daddy says he's going to teach me baseball when it's not cold. I kind of know how to play."

"Only kind of?" Paulina asked, her green eyes twinkling.

Jilly nodded and giggled. "It's confusing."

"Tell me about it," Paulie agreed. "Well, I've got to go to work. Have fun, and be good," she said, directing the last part of the statement at Kieran. She gave him one last kiss on his cheek and left.

"Is it snowing outside?" Jilly asked, looking at the melting, white clumps of ice on Kieran's jacket.

"Uh-huh," he said, leaning back on the beanbag and looking up at the white stucco ceiling. "It's really cold."

Jilly smiled and bounced lightly on the beanbag. "Maybe we can make a snowman after school," she suggested, "My mommy can help. She's really good at it."

"OK," Kieran said, frowning.

"Why are you sad?" Jilly asked. She rolled over onto her stomach, landing herself on part of his torso. She wiggled her fingers on his stomach.

Kieran burst into laughter, pleading with her to stop and weakly shoving her hands away.

"Jillian! No tickling, we've discussed this!" the teacher shouted from the front of the classroom.

"But I have to!" Jilly giggled back, "He needs it!" She continued to tickle Kieran's sides until he thrashed on the beanbag, laughing so hard that his eyes teared up.

* * *

Flack greeted Danny solemnly, his lips pressed together.

"What?" Danny snorted, setting his kit down on the dirt path in Central Park.

"Female, late twenties, brunette," Don responded, "Major trauma to the body –"

"No," Danny said, shaking his head and taking a step back.

Flack took a deep breath and continued, otherwise unfazed by Danny's denial. "Indications of torture to the body … she doesn't have a name yet. I'm sure we'll find one soon –"

"He's not here," Danny maintained, "He left the state."

Don cleared his throat and flipped open his notebook, reading off the other observations he'd made. "Dressed only in her underclothes, blow to the back of the head. Danny, it's him."

Danny shoved past Don disbelievingly, stomping towards the crime scene. His gaze caught on the woman lying face down on the snow, her back adorned in a rainbow of bruises that mirrored his wife's only a few months ago. There was a new addition, though. Carved deeply on the woman's back were the words, STILL HERE.

He stepped back and flipped open his cell phone. He dialed Lindsay's number quickly and pressed the phone to his ear.

Don listened in to Danny's side of the conversation as his friend checked whether or not Lindsay was at home, and asked her to stay there. He watched as Danny turned away and leaned into the phone, his voice soft and gentle as he explained that Lindsay needed to stay safe.

After a few minutes of talking to Lindsay, Danny shut the phone and looked up at Don. "All right, can you get the kids? I'm gonna go home and stay with Lindsay."

"Yeah, I can get 'em. You want me to take them both for the night? Or do you want to be with Jilly?"

Danny frowned, walking with Don to the SUV. "Might be safer if I watch just Lindsay. She's the one he wanted, the one that escaped. And Jilly … I can't take care of her _and _Linds. You know how she can be."

Don grinned briefly. "Yeah. I'm gonna go take them out of school and take 'em home. I'll make sure you guys get someone watching your place –"

"We're not gonna stay there," Danny said, whipping open the door to the car, "I'm taking her to a hotel."

"Danny, he couldn't know where you guys live –"

"I know," Danny said, turning on the engine, "But it can't hurt. I'll call Mac with the details. Go get the kids. And hurry."

* * *

"Uncle Don!" Jilly shouted, breaking free of the teacher assistant's hand and racing towards the lanky homicide detective. Don bent down and swept her up into a hug.

"Daddy!" Kieran shouted moments later, and ran towards Don. Don picked him up, too, holding him on the opposite hip.

"A'right, you two ready to blow this joint?" Don asked.

The teacher's assistant winced at his language, but Don ignored her and kissed the side of Kieran's head. He dropped them on their feet, took their hands, and walked out of the building. "Jilly, you're stayin' with me and Kieran tonight," Don explained, "Your mommy and daddy need some time alone."

"Can we have pancakes tomorrow?" Jilly asked.

"'Course, honey, whatever you want," Don responded.

"Can we build a snowman?" Kieran asked hopefully.

"You wanna build a snowman?" Don asked, grinning down at his son, "Really?"

Kieran shrugged, averting his eyes to the ground and loosening his grip on Don's hand.

"No, that's great," Don said, squeezing Kieran's hand, "We'll build a snowman. I just didn't know you liked doin' stuff like that."

"I do," Kieran said, smiling up at Don.

* * *

"I'm not hiding," Lindsay informed Danny as he walked through the door, snow stuck to the shoulders of his jacket and icy water dripping from his clothes. "I know you want me to, but I won't do it."

"Linds…" Danny started, removing his jacket.

"No, I don't want to hear it." She shuffled into the kitchen, hobbling on her non-broken leg. "I won't act like his victim, Danny, and I won't let you make me. If you so much as think about making me go to a hotel, I will never forgive you, Danny, and that's the god's honest –"

"No hotel," Danny said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "You say no hotel, no hotel." He kissed the back of her neck and hugged her tightly.

Later that night, they lay in bed together, Danny with his back against the headboard, Lindsay nestled between his legs, her head on his chest. A carton of Chinese food take-out was in one hand, chopsticks in the other. She scooped up sweet and sour chicken and popped it into her mouth.

"How's the leg?" Danny asked conversationally, reaching down to finger the top of the cast.

Lindsay lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Good, I guess."

Danny rubbed her stomach.

"If you don't stop doing that, I'm going to throw all this chicken in your face," Lindsay said irritably, popping another piece of chicken into her mouth.

"Sorry, baby," Danny said, stealing the chopsticks and taking a bite for himself, "Can't help it." Her pregnant belly fascinated him. Not only was it attractive, but also warming. Each time he looked at it, excitement built up in him.

"I've got a doctor's appointment about it soon," Lindsay sighed, dropping her head back onto Danny's shoulder.

"The baby?"

"No, the cast. They're going to check on it, see how it's doing."

"Good, good. You want me to come with?"

Lindsay shrugged. "If you're free. But I've got a doctor's appointment for the baby the week afterwards, and I thought if you had the choice, you'd want to be at that one."

"I'll see if I can come to both; how's that?"

Lindsay smiled. Danny kissed her neck softly and pulled her into his body. "God, I miss seein' you all the time. You know how much I hate leaving you alone…"

"I'm not alone. I have my soaps," Lindsay said dully.

Danny laughed. "Hey, you want help changing into your pajamas? 'Cause I'm here, and I might as well."

"I don't want to go to sleep yet," Lindsay sighed, pulling his arms around her body.

"No one said sleep. I said pajamas. Not sleep." He kissed the side of her head. "But it is kinda late …"

"No," Lindsay whispered fiercely, her grasp on Danny's hands tightening.

Danny grew serious immediately. "Lindsay, what's wrong?" he asked, shifting her in his arms so he could look at her face.

She twisted her torso and wrapped her arms around him. He grabbed the carton of Chinese food and dropped it onto the bedside table, then turned her so she was facing him. He held her tightly, one hand on the back of her head, the other around her waist. "You scared?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, pressing herself closer to him. "What if he comes back?" she whispered fearfully.

"Then I'll take care of it. If you don't want, you don't have to do anything."

"What if he goes after Jilly and Kieran?"

"Don and Paulina are there. They'll take care of her." Danny hated to admit it, but he had known she'd be scared. It was part of the reason he'd asked Don to take Jilly for the night. He'd decided that, since Griffin had only intended to take Lindsay, that she was the one in more danger, and he needed to be with her. She hadn't been doing so well since the attack: waking up in the middle of the night scrabbling for Danny, jumping when anyone moved quickly. He knew she needed therapy, or something more than he could give her. He didn't want to push her in any way, though, until Griffin was in jail.

"Lindsay, honey, you're going to be fine," he murmured in her ear, "Nobody's going to hurt you, and nobody's going to hurt Jilly."

They eventually settled down to sleep, with their arms wrapped tightly around each other.


	22. Chapter 22

Stella carefully walked along the sidewalk towards Danny and Lindsay's apartment, watching her four inch heels to make sure they didn't catch on the sidewalk. She held her Chai latte tightly in her hand, making sure she didn't spill the hot liquid on her new white gloves. In retrospect, white gloves were not a good idea. What with the amount of gooey things, nasty things, and bloody things Stella touched on a daily basis, it was not a good idea to have bought a pair of beautiful white gloves, even she felt like a queen or a princess when she wore them.

She glanced over at the other side of the street as she walked, admiring the facades of the squat apartment buildings. Her eye caught on a glimmering hunk of metal on the street, and she caught herself staring openly at a bright silver 2008 Maserati. She took in a breath. She loved cars, a fact she hid from Mac with every fiber of her being. She knew that, if she happened to mention it to him, that he would spend the rest of his life talking to her only about which-model-did-she-prefer and why-that-one-not-this-one and, if that was the case, then they would never get around to doing any work. Mac was a car fanatic, something he would rather not share with his colleagues. He was an admirer rather than an owner, and knew more about cars than Stella could fathom.

She sighed and passed the car, her gaze breezing past the Maserati and onto other things, before briefly landing on the glinting window of the van in front of the Maserati. The van was heavily beat up, and a shining, jagged piece of metal stuck from one side of it, the exterior of the car having been ripped near the doors to the trunk. Lindsay squinted at the metal, something eating at her. On a whim, she crossed the street to get a closer look.

The door to the van popped open, and a man, shrouded in a black baseball cap, leaned out of the van. "What?" he grunted, "Something you need?"

_Now _that's _what I call suspicious behavior,_ Stella thought, but smiled her brilliant smile instead. "I'm just checking out the Maserati behind you. Did you see who parked it here? I wanted to talk to them, see if they got the –"

"No," the man grunted, and shut the door.

Stella caught a glimpse of his black, leathery gloves. She frowned, and turned away from his van. She could see the reflection of the man's van in the shiny metal of the Maserati, and bent in towards the hood of the car to inspect the reflection of the jagged piece of metal.

Just as she had suspected, the smudge she'd seen from a distance was blood. That was cause enough for an arrest, but something else bothered Stella. Why was this van sticking out in her memory? Suddenly it came to her, in Kieran Flack's tiny, warm little voice – _"I cut my arm on his van – it was broken at the side."_

Stella swallowed her gasp. Straightening, she steadied the hand holding her Chai tea and took a long, calming sip of the drink. Taking a deep breath, she turned around, the bright smile still on her face.

She walked over to the door of the van and rapped on the window. It rolled down slowly. "What?" the man grunted.

"Are you absolutely sure you didn't see who parked that car there?" she asked, her eyes slipping from his to observe the inside of the van. On the passenger's seat, she could spot a roll of duct tape.

"Yeah," the man grunted.

"Well, I was just wondering. Can you tell me how long you've been here? Because then I might know when this person parked his car –"

"A while. I've been here a while," the man said shortly, tugging his baseball cap further down on his face, obscuring it from Stella's view all the more. He revealed a healing scar on the back of his neck, round and sharply edged.

"How long is a while?" Stella asked curiously, and peeked again over at the duct tape. She could see that one edge of it was reddish, and glistening in the pale sunlight that streamed through the windshield.

With the man's silence, she knew she'd gone too far. She saw his hand dart to the key in the ignition, and reached into the car with catlike movements and snatched it out, holding it back behind her.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, shoving her to the ground. Her cardboard cup of tea shot out of her hand, landing a ways from her and spilling explosively to the ground as the man, now known to Stella as Griffin Morris, leaped from his car and took off running. Stella scrambled up from the ground and took of at a sprint after him.

Where other women might be slow and unsteady, Stella Bonasera was a master of high heels. She'd been known to skip jump rope in them in her later years at the foster home where she'd stayed, and thousands of lessons of dance, specifically the tango, had taught her immense grace and impossible balance. But what Stella had learned, after years of elaborate spins and quick dips, was how to use the high heels to her advantage. The key was to bend her toes even more than the heel required, propelling herself forwards. Stella could run faster in her high heels than most people could in running sneakers.

With a quick shriek, she tackled the running man in black, sending him toppling to the ground. His head smacked against the sidewalk as Stella wrenched his arms back and held him to the ground.

Upset by the commotion, and Stella's shriek, people began to peek out of windows and emerge from the buildings around her. From a tall, brick building to Stella's immediate left, Danny Messer jogged out of his apartment, cuffs hooked to his belt, gun in his holster, wondering when the hell Stella Bonasera was going to show up at his place so he could get to his shift at the crime lab.

"Stell?" he asked, glancing over at the tangle of people on the sidewalk across the street from him. He jogged across the street, and glanced down at Stella. "What – who's this guy?"

Stella blew a harsh stream of breath out of her mouth, and tossed her hair back to look at Danny. "Danny Messer, meet Griffin Morris," she said curtly, and dug her knee further into the man's back.

Danny stared wordlessly at the man under Stella's grasp, his face changing from confusion to a fierce, brutal, fury. "Are you sure?" he asked finally, reaching around his back to pull out his handcuffs. He held them out to Stella, who took them gratefully and snapped them onto Griffin's wrists.

"About five feet seven inches, wearing what you described him in, minus the mask, of course, and the van fits Kieran, Jilly, and Lindsay's descriptions," Stella said briskly, grinding her knee painfully into the space between Griffin's shoulder blades, "It's him."

Danny stared at Griffin, the man's face plastered uncomfortably into the sidewalk. "Are you …" he asked in a strangled voice, "taking him in? 'Cause I can do it …"

Stella looked up at him curiously. "Would I be right to trust you with that?" she asked.

Danny stared at Griffin, his expression never changing. He took a deep breath. He knew exactly what he'd do if he had Griffin sitting in his car. He had it planned, and had worked out this idea in the hours when Lindsay was in her first hour at the hospital, screaming and grabbing at Danny's arms and pleading with him to take her home and let her die in peace. He would take Griffin into the car with him, right in the front seat, and he would take him down by the side of the Hudson, near the abandoned docks. He would begin by breaking both of Griffin's legs, preferably with a lead pipe, and then he would slowly work his way around Griffin's body – punches, kicks, and the occasional bullet from Danny's gun. Not to kill him. Not yet. He would then start in with the torture Griffin had inflicted on Lindsay, once he had Griffin bleeding at his feet. He would bear down on Griffin with the lead pipe, he would periodically drown and resuscitate the man, and he would keep him by the river for a day with no food and no water. After spending some quality time with Griffin, he would take him to the hospital. He would claim that he'd found Griffin by the water. He'd get Flack to cover for him – Don owed him that much. He'd cover up his own injuries, and clean up the scene to make it look like the two had never been there. And then, when Griffin was in jail, Danny would pay whoever he could to go into Griffin's cell and use him as the cellblock bitch. Because that was what Griffin deserved.

"Danny? Did you hear me? Can I trust you with that?" Stella asked, snapping Danny out of his trance.

And then Danny thought of Lindsay, with her soft brown eyes and her warm arms, and Jilly's bubbly laugh and her toothy smiles, and he knew, suddenly, that he would lose it all. "No," he said, "You can't."

"OK, then," Stella said. She got to her feet, roughly pulling Griffin up with her.

"Wait," Danny said as Stella began pushing Griffin down the sidewalk. He walked over to the limping man who still gave Jilly nightmares and haunted Lindsay's eyes, and he tore off the baseball cap. He stared into Griffin's face, observing how the man refused to meet his eyes. A thick scar graced the skin under one of Griffin's eyes, and his cheeks were weathered and beaten and purpled with time. His eyes were young, though, but black and hardened and fearful all at once. His face was babylike, though, and Danny burned it into his memory in case he would need it in the future. He took a deep breath, and turned to leave, throwing Griffin's ball cap onto the ground.

Caught by a sudden thought, he turned and jammed his knee into Griffin's stomach so hard that Stella heard something crack ominously. Griffin gave a muffled yell, and bent over.

"Thanks for getting him," Danny said calmly, and walked back over to his building, hearing the rushing roar of his blood pumping through his body. He went into the building, and realized that he was not in any state to be around his daughter or his wife. He was ready to kill someone, ready to rip Griffin to pieces, and could not come to terms with the fact that that was not in his future.

"Piece of SHIT!" he shouted, and slammed his fist into the brick wall of the building. He calmed his breathing, taking in shaky, long breaths. Finally, he rested his head on the wall, sweat forming on his forehead as he struggled to keep his feelings inside.

Finally able to compose himself, he straightened up off the wall and went upstairs.

--

Hours later, Danny was in the crime lab's basement, in the workout room, brutally beating a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

He smacked the bag over and over again, until he was completely spent and there was nothing more for him to give. Finally, he pulled off the tape on his hands, and headed into the changing room. He showered quickly, and pulled on his clothes. As he sat on the bench in the locker room, pensively running a towel through his hair, he thought of Lindsay's wide, worried eyes after he'd told her about Griffin. "_Are you sure?"_ she kept asking, over and over again, so much so that he wanted to scream at her _"Of course I'm fucking sure!" _ But he hadn't. He'd sat on the couch with Lindsay, listening to Jilly kick a ball around in her room, and waiting for his wife to stop staring slack-jawed at the wall.

He'd come into work late, anger still simmering inside the pit of his stomach at something he still longed to do, and had mechanically done his work for the day. And here he was, with the first alone time he'd had in weeks, sitting on a bench in the locker room.

With a harsh grunt, he stood up and tossed the towel into the laundry bin in the corner and picked up his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and left.

* * *

It was late when he got home, nearly midnight. He headed into Jilly's room first. She was curled up in a tiny ball in her covers. Lindsay had apparently covered her up with a second blanket, a thick blue quilt. Danny gently ran his hand through her loose, soft honey curls and pressed his lips to her forehead.

She mumbled something in response, a cross between a sigh and a whisper. Danny smiled and tapped lightly on Elvis the goldfish's tank.

He left the room and headed into his and Lindsay's bedroom. The minute he stepped in the door of their room, he knew he was in for something. Lindsay was sitting in bed, her good leg bent up to her chest, her chin resting on the knee. Her cast was lying on the covers, glaringly obvious against the dark green blanket on their bed.

"You're late," she said. Her voice was still the stunned, quiet tone she'd had since Stella had apprehended Griffin earlier that night. Her eyes still had the deer-in-headlights quality to them that Danny hated to see.

"I worked out a little bit after work," he explained, and started to change out of his work clothes. He slipped off his jeans and shrugged out of his jacket, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed and kicked his clothes towards the hamper. He pulled on some sweats over his boxers and walked over to the bed.

He stood next to it, unmoving. "Are you mad?" he asked.

She shook her head.

He reached out and smoothed her hair gently. "Are you scared?" he asked.

"Why would I be?" she asked dully, "he's in jail now."

Danny carefully got onto the bed. He sat behind Lindsay and pulled her into his chest. She was warm; he could feel that through her thin t-shirt. After a few moments, she leaned back against his chest and tucked her head under his chin.

"Is it stupid if I'm still scared?" she asked.

"No," Danny sighed. He trailed his hand up and down her arm, admiring her soft skin. "It's not stupid at all."

Lindsay took Danny's free hand and held it in both of her own. She traced his knuckles with the tip of her pointer finger, then fluttered her fingers over to his wedding ring – a thick gold band on his ring finger – and twirled it around a few times. Danny watched her hands move silently.

"Sometimes," Lindsay said softly, "I think he's in the apartment, and I stay still and try not to breathe, because I think he'll see me if I don't."

"Don't do that," he whispered against her ear, "You don't have to. Nothing will happen."

"I can't stop thinking it will," she responded, her voice cracking at the last word.

Danny tried to formulate a response to that in his head. He was silent for a long time, then kissed her neck slowly. "Would you …" he swallowed, and started again, "If Griffin wasn't alive, would you feel better?" he asked slowly.

Lindsay stopped twirling his wedding ring. She moved her head from under his chin to rest on his shoulder, and looked up at him. "Do you mean …"

"Don't ask what it means," Danny said, "All I'm sayin' is, if you can't live your life with him still living, would you be better if he was dead?"

"You'd kill him," Lindsay said, "That's what you mean."

"That aside –"

"I can't put that aside, Danny," Lindsay said softly, "That's not how it works. And I wouldn't feel better. It's what he's done that I can't get rid of, not what he's doing now."

Danny leaned his head back against the bed and shut his eyes for a second. "I just thought –" he said.

"I know," Lindsay whispered, turning halfway in his arms and resting her head on his chest, "And I love you for it. But it won't help, even though we'd both like to think it would."

Danny tightly wrapped his arms around her. He held his hands to her round stomach, running one under her t-shirt and feeling the tight skin of her belly. "I'll protect you, Lindsay. Always. You know that."

She nodded and tucked her chin into the curve of his arm, curling her fingers around his bicep.

"Have you felt the baby kick yet?" Danny asked, drumming his fingers lightly across the surface.

"No," she sighed, "Sometimes there's a little bit of movement, but nothing I can definitely pin down as a kick or anything."

"Soon," he said, kissing her temple, "How are you feelin', by the way? You need anything? Water? Milk? Juice?"

"Hmm," she said, "You could rub my ankles." She smiled at him, wondering if he'd go for it.

"I could," he said, smirking at her. He gently lay her down on the pillow he had been sitting on and crawled to the end of the bed. He sat cross-legged at her feet, and reached out and pulled one of her feet into his lap. She closed her eyes in anticipation and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

Danny carefully massaged her swollen ankles, rubbing the sore, swollen skin lovingly. "You should be off your feet more, Montana," he grinned, and scooted forwards to the bedside table. He pulled out Lindsay's body lotion and made his way back to her feet. He rubbed the lotion onto her skin, watching with satisfaction the way her eyelids flickered and a small smile set on her lips.

"I try but there's this tiny little being that keeps asking me to play," Lindsay said, smiling softly.

"Tell her mommy has to rest," Danny snorted, "Don't let a five year old push you around."

Lindsay's eyes snapped open, and she sat up to look at Danny, crossing her arms over her chest. "Speak for yourself," she frowned, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you freak _out _if Jilly so much as stubs her toe. Last week, when she got a papercut, you practically took her to the hospital!"

"That's for her health, Linds," Danny defended himself.

Lindsay laughed. "What about the amount of time you pick her up when she's tired? How you buy her M & M's, and eat all the yellow ones because she doesn't like them? How you play pillow baseball with her whenever she asks, even if you've just come off a double shift?"

Danny shrugged and pressed his lotioned thumbs into the arch of Lindsay's foot, massaging it. "So?" he asked.

Lindsay smiled and watched him as he sat on his heels and massaged her ankles and feet. He was silent for a little while, just contemplating her swollen limbs and working on making her feel better. "How's that?" he asked finally, "Feel any better?"

"Much," she sighed, and leaned back onto the pillows. Danny crawled back up the bed and lay beside her. He reached over and turned out the light before nestling back into the covers. He tugged her close to his chest and kissed her temple. She burrowed into him, grabbing two handholds of his shirt.

"Don't be scared," he whispered, feeling her body tense up as they sunk into the dark. She relaxed immensely as he held her tightly, her belly pressed up tight to his stomach. He felt her breathing on his chest, right above his heart. "I'll be right here," he breathed, and softly ran his fingers through her hair.

The moment before he fell asleep, he felt something nudge at his stomach. _The baby kicked, _he thought, and remembered muttering a soft, "Boom," as he drifted into sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I know it's been a while. I'm working on getting some of the random bits I've written tied together. As you can see/read, I was really in the mood for chocolate as I wrote these. **

* * *

"Hey, girlie," Danny said, leaning on the fence at the elementary school. Jilly was sitting on the stoop of the school, her arms crossed, glaring at him. She stuck her bottom lip up in a pout, fought the tears that were threatening to fall, and turned her head away from him.

"Jilly, I'm sorry," Danny said, straightening up and walking inside the gate to sign her out. He scribbled his name on the parents sheet, nodded to the teacher standing at the front door, and sat down next to his daughter, the only child left in the snowy, empty playground. "I didn't know how late I was 'til I got here."

Jilly ignored him, scooting farther away from him on the stoop.

The teacher behind them gathered her things and left, her footsteps echoing into the playground, emphasizing the lack of children and teachers.

"I know I'm late –"

"Two _hours_ late," Jilly corrected, her voice shaking with un-cried tears.

"I know I'm two _hours _late," Danny repeated, copying Jilly's furious tone, "and I'm really, really sorry." He'd done this same routine that morning, in the kitchen at their apartment, but with Lindsay over his reluctance to let her go back to work. It seemed, sometimes, that whatever he did, someone was always unhappy.

"Jilly, please, I'm sorry," he said again, scooting closer to her.

She scooted away until she was perched precariously on the edge of the steps, about to fall through to the ground.

Danny sighed. "What do you want me to say, honey? I can't be perfect all the time."

"You forgot about me," Jilly sniffed, pulling her crossed arms closer to her chest.

"I didn't forget – hey, I'd never forget about you, OK? Ever. I just wasn't thinking about when I had to come get you."

"You weren't thinking about me and you forgot me. It's the same thing," Jilly said, a tear dripping down her cheek.

"That's not true. I'm always thinking about you, OK? And I always will. I just wasn't thinking about what time I needed to come over here," Danny explained. He reached over and carefully picked Jilly up, wary of her sullen mood, and sat her on his lap. "I'm never going to forget about you, got it?" he said, hugging her softly.

Jilly nodded against his neck. "I got scared you weren't coming," she whimpered.

"I know, but I was," Danny said. He stood up and held Jilly tightly against his chest as he walked to the car. He sat her down in her car seat and buckled her in. He kissed her forehead and smoothed down her hair with one of his large hands. "I'm sorry, JJ. Do you forgive me yet?"

"If we can get ice cream on the way home," she said, hiding a sneaky laugh behind her hand.

"Ice cream? You crazy? It's thirty degrees out here!" Danny exclaimed.

"Please?" Jilly pleaded, clasping her hands together dramatically.

"Yeah, OK," Danny sighed, "The things I do for you…"

* * *

Danny walked into the apartment with a hand on Jilly's arm as he steered her through the door. She was lost in the ice cream, the sticky chocolate covering her mouth and inexplicably dotting other regions of her face and hands as she took a big bite. Danny's hand was on the back of her neck, gently pushing her through the hallway and into the bathroom.

"Now, look, after all that mess, you're gonna have to take a bath or your mother'll –"

"I'll what?" Lindsay said, leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom, her arms crossed over her protruding belly and her cast leaning to the side, blocking Danny from leaving.

"Kill me, probably," Danny finished, leaning over and kissing Lindsay hello.

"I just might," Lindsay frowned, glancing at the two of them, "It's five o'clock, and Jilly's appetite is probably ruined…"

"Hi, mommy!" Jilly said happily, putting the cardboard ice cream bowl on the side of the tub and reaching her sticky chocolately hands up to her mother.

Lindsay smiled and hugged Jilly, chuckling as the top of Jilly's head barely hit her mid-thigh. Lindsay turned to Danny. "You look exhausted. Take a nap, OK?"

Danny shook his head. "You're the pregnant one. And the one with a broken leg. I got this."

Jilly ignored them and stripped to her undershirt and underwear, sticking her hands into the water and laughing as the water turned a chocolatey brown.

"Did something happen at work? Stella mentioned that the case was pretty bad…" Lindsay watched Danny, reaching up a hand to his cheek. She smoothed the dark circles under his eyes with her thumb, hoping to ease the tension.

With a quick glance at Jilly, who was busying herself with the water taps, Danny leaned in a little closer to Lindsay and kissed her temple before telling her quietly, "There was a ten year old girl found in a dumpster, behind a church." His voice dropped as he leaned in closer to his wife. "Sexually assaulted, throat slit."

Lindsay draped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer to her. She kissed his neck and held him for a minute while he regained his composure. "Did you catch the guy?" she asked.

"The girl's teacher at school. Flack and I spent three hours in interrogation with him. We got him eventually," he said softly. It almost sounded, to Lindsay, as though the last part didn't matter to Danny, as though the damage was irreversible.

"There's nothing you could have done besides that," she said gently, rubbing the nape of his neck with one hand.

"I know," he admitted.

Lindsay looked at him curiously, then rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him before whispering in his ear, "You checked out all of Jilly's teachers, didn't you?" she asked knowingly.

Danny shrugged. He had, of course, but he wasn't about to let Lindsay know that, and the fact that he'd done a background check on every teacher at her and Kieran's school.

"Why don't you go relax? Please? I can take care of her," Lindsay said, kissing his neck again.

Danny gave one glance to Jilly, smiling at the image of her splashing in the water. "Yeah, I'll do that. Wake me up if you get tired, though, OK?"

Lindsay nodded and shooed him out before draining the bath of the chocolaty water and then helping Jilly undress and refill the tub.

When they emerged from Jilly's bedroom an hour later, Jilly smelling like her watermelon scented soap and clothed in her moose-print footie pajamas, Danny was sprawled out on the couch, hands thrown over his stomach, sleeping soundly. Lindsay crutched over to him and softly stroked his cheek before heading to the kitchen. Jilly made exaggerated shh-ing sounds, her little finger to her mouth, as she followed Lindsay into the kitchen.

"What do you want for dinner?" Lindsay asked her.

Jilly thought hard. "Ice cream," she finally said.

"No. Not at all," Lindsay laughed. "How about chicken? Would you eat some of that?"

"OK," Jilly sighed, "But don't chickens have mommies, mommy?"

"Yes," Lindsay said, "but you need to eat them because they have protein."

"Paulina doesn't eat chickens," Jilly pointed out.

"Paulina is a vegetarian, that's why. You can be one when you can cook your own food, how's that?" Lindsay suggested, pulling out the boneless chicken breast she'd bought the other day out of the freezer.

* * *

Danny woke up nearly two hours later, groaning and wiping at his eyes with the back of one hand. He sat up to find a piece of paper attached to his hand. He glanced at the piece of paper, held to his hand with a rubber band.

_Chicken is in the microwave for you to heat up – we already ate. _

Under the note was a sketchily drawn picture of what looked like a stick figure on all fours, with black spots, accompanied by another note in Lindsay's handwriting – _Jilly wants you to know that she tried to draw a chicken, but it was hard, so she drew a cow._

Under that was a shaky signature of Jilly's name, with a heart dotting the 'i'. Danny grinned and sat up. He heard voices coming from Jilly's bedroom and went to investigate.

Lindsay and Jilly were on the floor, sitting on sheets of newspaper. Jilly was lying on the floor, stomach down, her hand on top of the sports section, her fingers splayed. Lindsay was carefully painting each of Jilly's fingers a different color, her bulky cast out to the side.

"…but Kieran said he wants to marry me, too, so I don't know what to do," Jilly was saying.

"How about you tell Kieran that you have to talk to Warren before you marry him?" Lindsay suggested.

"How about you not get married to either of them," Danny grumbled from the doorway.

"Hi, Daddy! You were sleeping for a long time," Jilly said gravely.

"I was tired," he sighed. He walked over to her and sat down in back of Lindsay, eyeing the colorful array of nail polish bottles. "So she's gettin' a manicure?" he asked.

"Yes," Lindsay smiled, leaning back on her husband's chest. Danny reached up and brushed her hair behind her ear with his fingers, then let his hand drift to her neck. He smoothed the skin, massaging her gently. "You made me dinner, huh?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded. "I am your wife. I can make you dinner if I feel like it." She finished up Jilly's hand and waved her own hand over it lightly. "OK," she directed at her daughter, "Now don't mess it up, OK? You can't touch anything for another… let's say ten minutes. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes," Jilly smiled. She scrambled to her feet, using only her palms, splaying her tiny fingers wide. She admired the rainbow on her nails – from the left to the right, it was a perfect storybook rainbow – red, orange, yellow, green, blue – on each hand. "Thank you, mommy," she smiled. "I wish they were sparkly, though."

"I think I can do that," Lindsay laughed, and crawled over to Jilly's backpack. She checked the front pocket and found a small container of sparkles. She scrambled back over to the newspaper and carefully held Jilly's hand steady as she poured the sparkles over her daughter's hand, finishing by blowing gently over the fingers to help the sparkles stick to her wet nails.

"Yay!" Jilly said excitedly, turning her hands so the sparkles caught in the light.

* * *

Later that night, Lindsay carefully tucked Jilly into her bed.

"Mommy?" Jilly asked, tugging on her mother's fingers, "Will you sleep with me tonight?" She scooted over to show the room she still had left on the side of her bed.

Lindsay shook her head and kissed Jilly's head. "You know I have to sleep with daddy, 'cause he gets lonely."

"He can come, too," Jilly said sadly, her eyes pleading.

"Not tonight, honey," Lindsay said. She kissed Jilly again and stood up. As she did so, a rush of blood drained out of her head. She pressed a hand to her forehead and reached out a hand on the bed to steady herself as a terrible whoosh of blood swept through her body. Her good knee crumpled, and she nearly fell to the ground.

"Mommy?" Jilly asked, watching her.

"I'm fine," Lindsay murmured, breathing deeply to steady herself.

"Daddy! Mommy's falling!" Jilly called out, scrambling out of her covers and crawling towards Lindsay.

Danny was in Lindsay's bedroom in a flash, banging the door open, his eyes wild with fear. "Lindsay? What's wrong?" he asked. He took two bounding steps to get to her side and pulled her up.

"Danny, I'm fine," she breathed, her eyes still squeezed closed, "I just got a little dizzy for a second –"

"That's a long second, Montana," Danny said under his breath. He had Lindsay lean onto him as he helped her out of the room. "Jilly," he called over his shoulder, "You go to sleep, OK? I'll be in to say goodnight after I put mommy to bed."

To Lindsay, he muttered, "We're calling Hawkes."

He had to carry her the last few feet to the bed, as her good leg gave out and she nearly toppled to the floor at his feet. He laid her down gently on the bed and snatched his phone from the bedside table. He dialed Sheldon's number and, before the man could even say hello, was already detailing Lindsay's symptoms.

"Get on your left side," he directed to Lindsay, relaying Sheldon's directions from the phone. He disappeared for a moment, only to return with a glass of water in his hand and an apple in his other. He made sure she drank the water, punctuating his conversation to Hawkes with the occasional, "uh-huh," and a "Yeah."

"A'right, man, thanks. I'll do that. Yeah. Bye," Danny said, and hung up the phone. "How is it?" he asked Lindsay, "You still dizzy?"

She shook her head slowly, closing her eyes. "I may have freaked out Jilly, though," she murmured, grabbing Danny's hand and placing it on her forehead. Lindsay loved feeling his hand on her head – it was always the right temperature. He had magic hands, in more ways than one. At the thought of what else he could do with his hands, she gave a half-giggle.

"What?" Danny asked, pressing his other hand to her round stomach, "What is it?"

Lindsay shrugged. "Nothing," she sighed, "Just say goodnight to Jilly and come back quickly, OK?"

He nodded and left, returning in a few minutes. He took off his shirt and his pants, leaving his boxers on, and crawled in behind Lindsay. He pulled her close to his own body and kissed the back of her neck. "You want some more water?" he asked.

She shook her head. "The feeling's almost gone," she sighed. "Thanks."

"As long as you're OK," he said, hugging her close.

* * *

Kieran woke up with a shout, then scrambled out of bed. He ran into his father's bedroom, his feet pattering down the wood floor, catching Don as he was about to get out of bed.

"What, what?" Don asked, catching Kieran as the little dark haired boy leaped into his father's arms. Kieran buried his head in his father's neck and started to cry. "What, K, is someone in your room? What scared you? What's wrong?" Don asked worriedly, getting up from his bed with Kieran in his arms. His words caused Kieran to cry only harder as Kieran clung to Don's shirt for dear life. "Kieran," Don said firmly, breaking his son's grip on his shirt, "Tell me what's wrong."

"I had a nightmare," Kieran whispered, his lower lip pouting. His blue eyes, mirrors of his father's, glistened with tears.

Don sighed and sat back down on his bed, Kieran still in his arms. He sat back against the headboard and held Kieran as the little boy cried. Don soothed him with soft murmurs that everything was going to be all right, and nothing was wrong, and no one was going to hurt him.

"What was it about?" Don asked once Kieran had finally settled down.

Kieran wiped his eyes with the back of one hand and sniffled. "The time me and Jilly had to go away with Griffin," he blubbered.

Don's first instinct was to tell Kieran that Griffin was never going to come near him again, but, then again, Don wondered if he could promise that. Griffin was out on the streets, God knows where, and what did that leave Don to say?

Don took a deep breath and rubbed Kieran's tears away with his thumb. "K, nobody's going to take you like that again. I won't let them, OK?"

Kieran nodded sadly, and leaned forwards onto his father's chest. He believed Don's words wholly, but still wanted to feel comforted. "Is mommy here tonight?" he asked, hugging Don's neck.

"No, not tonight," Don said heavily. Paulina had bout a new apartment, and was working on moving in. She was spending one last night at Carl's place, to pack up her things and get ready for the move. Don was not pleased. He had offered her his bed, the spare room at his parent's place, and had even suggested that she spend a night with Lindsay and Danny. She'd refused, telling him that she needed to get her things together. "How about I take you back to bed, huh buddy?" Don asked.

Kieran shook his head and clutched at Don's shirt. "I want to stay here," he sobbed.

"OK, OK," Don said gently. He pulled back the covers of the other side of his bed and tucked Kieran in. He reached over and gently ruffled Kieran's hair. "Just go to sleep," he whispered, "Everything's fine. Go to sleep."

Lulled by his father's voice, Kieran sank back into sleep.

* * *

Lindsay pulled Jilly close to her body in the cab. They were taking a particularly sharp left turn, and Jilly was without car seat, which made Lindsay incredibly uncomfortable. Jilly, however, was having the time of her life. The loose seat belt allowed her to slide and slip around the leather seat of the cab with each slight move. She couldn't stop giggling as the cabbie whipped through the streets of New York.

When they pulled in front of their apartment building at last, Jilly hopped out, dragging her backpack behind her. Lindsay came out more slowly, working her cast and her crutches out of the door. Finally, she was able to stand up and get on her crutches. She handed the cabbie some money and headed into the apartment after Jilly, hobbling along on her cast.

Jilly walked slowly to the elevator, trying to keep in pace with her hobbling mother. Lindsay crutched her way into the compartment and rested her head on the wall of the elevator, muttering, "Jilly, can you press the button? I'm exhausted."

"Does your leg hurt you, mommy?" Jilly asked, her eyes wide as she pressed the big button for their floor.

"No, but my crutches are really annoying. They hurt my arms," Lindsay said, giggling. She shifted against the wall.

* * *

"Your arms hurt?" Danny asked, hugging Lindsay to his chest and kissing her neck.

Lindsay groaned. "Jilly ratted me out?" she laughed, and wiggled back into Danny's body. Danny nodded and arranged himself around her body, using his feet to pull her legs in closer to his. "I thought she would."

"She doesn't want her mommy to get hurt," Danny chuckled, and kissed her ear, "And neither do I. So. Talk. Are the crutches hurting you?"

Lindsay lifted one shoulder, then immediately regretted it as her muscles complained with fierce, sharp pain. She winced.

"I guess so," Danny said, and kissed her shoulder. "I'm going to go and grab you some Tylenol from the bathroom. And tomorrow, we'll work out something for you. I'll see if I can wrangle up a wheelchair –"

"Oh, no," Lindsay said firmly, "Not in a million years."

"Why the hell not? You're pregnant, and it's not like that leg makes you steady on your feet. If you fall and hurt yourself because the crutches are hurting you…"

"I can deal with the crutches, Danny. But I will not use a wheelchair," she grumbled

"I don't want you to fall," he said, punctuating his sentence with a few nicely placed kisses on her face.

"I won't," she sighed, irked by his over-protectiveness. She grabbed the covers and wrapped herself in them jerkily, angrily, as Danny went to get her some Tylenol. She'd get it herself if she wasn't so tired and sore. He sat down gently next to her and handed over two small tablets for her and a glass of water.

She heaved herself to her elbows and downed the tablets with a gulp of water, then dropped the glass onto the bedside table and flounced down onto the bed. She heaved the blankets over her body and scooted far away from Danny.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," he snapped, shoving back the covers on his side of the bed and got in bed. "So I want you and the baby to stay safe. Is that so wrong?"

"When you start to suffocate me, then yes, it is," she huffed.

"I'm just trying to help," he said tiredly.

She turned over and frowned at him. "Help? You want to help? Then leave me alone. I'm tired, I'm pissed off, I'm fat, and my shoulders are killing me. I can't deal with anything more." She whipped back around and buried her face into the covers.

She regretted saying it immediately, especially when a silent Danny slipped off the bed and walked out of the room, keeping his feet light on the ground so as not to disturb Lindsay.

He shut the door softly behind him with a click, and headed over to the couch. He collapsed onto the piece of furniture, cradling his head in his hands and not bothering to pull a blanket over himself.

It was almost three in the morning when he heard a shuffling walk behind him, and looked up to see Lindsay creeping out of their bedroom, using one crutch to hobble her way towards the kitchen. He wiped sleep from his eyes and crawled off the couch.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"I'm starving," she whispered back.

"What do you want?" Danny yawned, heading into the kitchen, easily passing her as she crutched her way into the room.

"Something sweet – cereal, I think. With chocolate milk, not regular milk."

"That's a lot of sweet," Danny snorted, dragging out a bowl and a box of cereal.

Lindsay made her way to the worn chair at their little table and sat down heavily. "Oh – cheerios, not Lucky Charms."

Danny hid his smile and pulled out the bright yellow box of Cheerios. He dumped some into the bowl and pulled out the milk from the fridge, snagging the chocolate syrup as well.

"Did you have enough to eat at dinner?" he asked, stirring the milk and chocolate syrup together.

She nodded, stifling a yawn. "But I guess I need more," she said, resting a hand on her belly.

Danny bit his lip, trying not to remind her to eat more. "You know," he said, "I could probably find some place that sells something for the top of the crutches. I've seen some with more padding on the top."

She giggled a little, taking the bowl that he handed her and scooping up a big spoonful. "I'm not still mad about that, you know," she reminded him.

He kissed her head and stood behind her, running his hands through her hair as she ate her cereal. "You're not?" he asked.

She shook her head and swallowed the first, chocolaty sweet bite. "I just got a little worked up over it."

"Hormones?" Danny asked.

She shrugged. "I'm over it, whatever it was."

He sat down in the chair next to her and rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to wake up a little more. "So can I come back to bed, then?" he snorted.

"Sure," she said primly, taking another bite, "Once I finish."

Danny chuckled and, once she was done, swept her off the chair and into his arms, kissing the chocolate taste from her mouth and inhaling her calming scent.


End file.
